Mare's Nest Page 6

  "Thank you," I said. I walked back outside, got in the car, and drove along in front of the building until I saw the door with number 5 on it. I parked in front, retrieved the backpack from the boot of the car, and then let myself into the room with the key. It bore no resemblance to the ocean-front flat I’d just left. The room smelt old and musty, the paint faded, and the carpet threadbare. But, it had a bed which is what I was most concerned with at the moment.

  After locking the door, I stuck a chair beneath the knob. I turned down the comforter, kicked off my jandals, and fell into bed. The mattress had seen better days but completely shattered in no time I fell asleep.

  Chapter 12

  I’D SLEPT IN MY CLOTHES which were now wrinkled and soiled. I needed a new outfit among other things. But, when I left the motel a little after eight o’clock, I decided coffee was what I needed first. I found a coffee bar in Wahiawa on Kamehameha Highway. I ordered an Americano with a double shot and an Acai Bowl for brekkie. Mostly, I had ordered it because it was the only thing on the menu other than coffee and tea. It was a yogurt bowl topped with banana slices and granola, drizzled with honey.

  After fortifying myself with the most important meal of the day, I went looking for a hair salon. I liked my hair as it was, but after my photo had been broadcast on television, I needed to change my appearance. After a 20 minute search, I found one that accepted walk-ins.

  By the time the stylist was ready for me, I’d found the look I wanted in a hairstyles magazine. Two hours later, the stylist had transformed my shoulder-length ginger tresses. They had become a blonde pixie cut paired with blunt, eye-skimming fringe. I asked the stylist to lighten my brows a bit with hydrogen peroxide. She did as I asked although she had insisted blonde hair with dark brows was a thing. I paid her and left the shop to look for a disposable phone. I needed to have a catch up with Malone.

  Down the road from the hair salon, I found a shop that sold disposable phones. I bought one along with a charger I could use in the car and a $50 prepaid phone card. Back in the car, I removed the phone from the packaging and plugged it in to charge. I didn’t want the bloody thing going flat in the middle of a conversation with Malone.

  While I waited for the phone to charge I went in search of a clothing shop. I found a shopping mall and once inside found a shop that sold the clothing I liked to wear. In less than a half hour, I had made my selections. I picked out a simple, casual dress, two pairs of shorts, and a pair of jeans. I bought matching tops for the shorts and jeans, a package of undies, and two bras. I wore the dress out of the store, having tossed the clothes I’d been wearing into the trash bin. With the new hairstyle and some clean clothes, I was all set.

  Before leaving the carpark, I rang Malone’s mobile, and he answered straight away.

  "How’s it going?" I said.

  "Good, but I was getting a little worried after not hearing from you for two days."

  "Yep, sorry about that," I said. "I had a bloody mare yesterday."

  "How’s the case going?"

  "To be fair, things have gone a bit tits up," I said.

  "What?" Malone said. "What happened?"

  "For starters, Douglas Shaw carked it yesterday. I found him dead on the floor of my hotel room wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Now the Honolulu cops are looking for me because they think I might have killed him."

  "Ah, shit," Malone said. "What about the kidnapping?"

  "Yeah, I haven’t got that all sorted yet, but the whole kidnapping thing looks a bit sus," I said. "I don’t think there was any kidnapping. It seems more like it was an extortion scheme to get money from Shaw with his daughter involved in it."

  "Where are you now?"

  "North of Honolulu, at a place called Wahiawa at the moment," I said. "I'm trying to stay a step ahead of the cops while I try to figure out who killed Shaw."

  "What a mess."

  "Yep, pretty much a total cock-up, eh," I said.

  "What’s the plan?"

  "First, I’m going to bowl round to Shaw’s house and have a chat to the missus and his daughter, Allison," I said.

  "I can be on the next flight to Honolulu," Malone said.

  "Slow down, Trev," I said. "You needn’t ride to the rescue at the moment. I can sort this out, and get things sorted with the police."

  "How?" Malone said. "You think whoever killed Shaw is just going to admit it because you asked them if they did it?"

  "Of course not, but I have some leverage to use with Shaw’s wife and the daughter," I said. "I’ve got a feeling they know who did it."

  "What kind of leverage?"

  "I went to rescue the daughter yesterday. I arrived with the guy who met me to collect the ransom. Shaw’s daughter, Allison burst out of the building she was in blasting away with a pistol. She shot and killed the guy I was with. I’ll threaten to go to the police with that if they don’t tell me what they know."

  "She’ll only deny it if you go to the police," Malone said. "It will be her word against yours."

  "I have the murder weapon," I said. "I took it off Allison afterward when she was trying to escape."

  "Huh," Malone said. "That might work. But, it might be best if you go to the cops now and let them handle it."

  "I’ve considered that," I said. "But, I’m worried the cops will lock me up while they investigate and I’ll be in jail until they get it sorted."

  "Still, the longer you are on the run, the worse it looks for you."

  "True enough, but I still want to talk to Shaw’s wife and daughter before considering turning myself in," I said.

  "Okay, T.J., do it your way," Malone said. "But, if things go south, if you get picked up by the police, call me. I’ll get there as quick as I can."

  "Yeah, definitely. If I get arrested before I can sort this, I’ll be happy to have all the help I can get."

  We said goodbye, and I disconnected the call. Nothing for it now, but to drive to Shaw’s place and see what I could find out. I drove out of the mall carpark onto the motorway and headed toward the east side of the island. A bit less than an hour later, I was on HI-83, headed north up the coast on the windward side of Oahu to Shaw’s house. I hadn’t a clue what was going to be waiting for me when I got there.

  Chapter 13

  DRIVING TO SHAW’S PLACE it occurred to me that packing a million dollars around in the boot of the car wasn’t smart. Had Adam not been such a muppet, he might have taken the money from me back in Haleiwa. Not only that, but cars get stolen or broken into every day. The problem was finding a secure place to stash the money. But given I was wanted in connection with a murder, I couldn't very well walk into a bank and ask to rent a safe deposit box. As I passed through Kailua, I noticed a sign and an idea for securing Shaw’s cash occurred to me. The sign read “Lanikai Beach Adventures.”

  I followed the directions on the sign. Turning off Kalaheo Avenue onto Kailua Road, I found the shop straight away. It was as expected a beach rental equipment shop. The place rented paddle surfboards, kayaks, snorkeling gear, and beach bikes. It seemed reasonable that the shop must have lockers available for their customers. Customers would need a place to store belongings while enjoying the beach. I walked inside to find out. There was a tall guy with shoulder-length blond hair at the counter. He was wearing board shorts and a muscle shirt and had an awesome tan. He looked up and smiled when I approached the counter. He looked rather skux, but alas, a bit young for me.

  “Aloha, may I help you?” the guy said.

  “Yep, I wanted to know if I rent something for the beach if you have lockers available where I could park my stuff?”

  “Sure do,” the guy said. “There are lockers out back between the shop and the snorkel equipment hut. You can use your own lock if you have one, or we can lend you one.”

  “Sweet,” I said. “I’m here for the week. Can I leave stuff in a locker for the week or do I have to empty it at the end of the day?”

  “The lockers are intended for daily use. But if you use yo
ur own lock, I guess you could leave your stuff in it all week.”

  “Sweet as,” I said. “I’m meant to take a tour in an hour, but I’ll be back to rent snorkeling gear later. Thank you.”

  “No problem,” the guy said.

  I didn’t have a lock, but there was a gift shop I’d passed down the road that looked like it might be a place that had them. I walked to store, and sure enough, there was a selection of padlocks to choose from. I chose one of those round types that are difficult to cut off.

  I walked back to the equipment rental place. Instead of going back inside, I walked down the side of the building to the back. I found the lockers right where the guy at the counter had said they were. The lockers were plenty large enough for a backpack. I returned to the car and opened the boot. As I picked up the backpack, I remembered that I’d accumulated a bit of an arsenal over the last couple of days.

  Besides the money, there were three handguns in the backpack. My .38 was in it, which I had emptied at Adam’s helicopter after Allison crashed her car. The semi-automatic that I’d taken from Allison was also in the backpack. It was also empty. Finally, I’d stowed the semi-automatic I’d taken from Adam in the backpack. It was the only one of the three weapons that had ammunition. I took it out of the backpack and slipped it behind the spare tyre. The other two, I left in the backpack. After closing the boot, I walked back to the lockers with the backpack and my new padlock. I selected an empty locker, stuffed the backpack inside, and secured it with the padlock.

  Having lightened my load a bit by putting Shaw’s money in a reasonably secure place, I got back in the car. I continued the drive to Shaw’s house which was a bit further up the coast. I’d just gone a couple of blocks on Kalaheo Avenue when I heard a short siren blast. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw flashing blue lights. Are you kidding me? Bloody hell. I activated the turn signal, pulled to the side of the road and stopped. The police car stopped behind my car. After several moments, an HPD officer got out and walked to my window.

  “Is there a problem, officer?” I said. “I didn’t think I was speeding.”

  “License and registration, please,” the cop said. The HPD cop was all business and didn’t strike me as Officer Friendly.

  “Right, that’s a bit of a problem,” I said. “I just left a beach gear rental shop back there. While I was at the beach snorkeling, someone broke into my locker and took my bag with my ID and credit cards.”

  “I see,” the officer said. “Please exit the vehicle please.”

  “Is this really necessary, officer?” I said. “I’m in a bit of hurry to get back to the hotel to ring my credit card issuers.”

  The cop took a couple of steps back from the window, placing his hand on the butt of his holstered pistol. Get out of the car, now,” he said.

  “All right, sure,” I said. I opened the door and got out.

  “Step to the hood of your vehicle,” the cop said. I did so.

  “Put your hands on the hood, and step back.” Again, I did as asked.

  “Spread your feet apart,” the cop said. I complied. He looked fit, but I was confident I could take him. On the other hand, I was already in enough trouble. No point to adding assault of a law enforcement officer and resisting arrest to the tally.

  The cop pulled my left arm behind my back and snapped a handcuff on my wrist. He repeated the process with my right arm and had handcuffed me with my hands behind my back.

  “You’re under arrest,” the cop said. “Walk to my car.” With a firm grip on my upper left arm, he steered me to the back door of his car. He opened it. “Have a seat,” he said.

  I turned sideways, aimed my arse at the backseat, and sat. The cop put his hand on my head and guided me inside. He pulled down the seatbelt from the seat back, crossed it over my lap and chest, and snapped it into place. He then stood up and closed the car door. The jig was up, and I was in custody.

  The cop got into the front seat and spoke on the car radio. We sat there for several minutes in silence and then another HPD officer appeared.

  “Can you do the impound while I transport?” the first cop said.

  “Sure, no problem,” the second cop said.

  The first cop put the car in gear, made a u-turn and drove back towards Kailua. A few minutes later he drove into a carpark. There was a sign out front of the building that read “Honolulu Police Kailua Substation.” The cop opened the rear door and helped me out of the backseat. He escorted me into the building and locked me in a holding cell still wearing the handcuffs. Then he walked over to a desk, sat down, and started typing on a computer.

  The cop hadn’t explained why he had arrested me. I assumed that he figured I already knew the reason. I sat quietly on a hard concrete bench in the holding cell while the cop typed on the computer keyboard. After about 15 minutes or so, the door opened, and a man and a woman in plain clothes walked in from outside. The uniformed cop looked up from the computer.

  “What’s up, guys?” he said to the two that had entered the room.

  “Hey, Nakamura,” the man in the suit said. “Where did you find her?”

  “North on Kalaheo, right before Kalama Beach Park,” the uniformed officer said. “The car looked right, and when I ran the tag, I got the hit.”

  “Good catch,” the other guy said. “She give you any problems?”

  “No,” the uniformed cop said. “She gave me a line about not having any ID claiming someone stole her bag. But Wong just sent me a message a few minutes ago. He found her bag with her ID in it while he was doing the inventory for the impound. He also found a semi-auto in the trunk behind the spare.”

  It seemed the cops had obtained my credit card details and found out about the rental car. I’d kept it too long.

  “Cool,” the guy in the suit said. He and the female walked over to the holding cell. The guy spoke first.

  “Hello Ms. O’Sullivan,” he said. “I’m Detective Young of the Honolulu Police Department, and this is Detective Oshiro.”

  “How’s it going,” I said.

  “As I’m sure you already know, you’re a suspect in the murder of Douglas Shaw,” Young said. “We also want to speak to you about the murder of a man named Jimmy Kamaka.”

  “I didn’t kill Shaw or Kamaka,” I said. “I haven’t killed anyone in quite some time, actually.”

  “Well, we want to hear your story of course,” Young said. “But, not here. We’re going to transport you back to Honolulu to the station downtown. We’ll talk there. Once we arrive, I will read you your Miranda rights, and you will have the option of obtaining an attorney. But, if you are innocent as you claim, we hope you will answer our questions and help us clear this all up.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Happy to help in any way I can.”

  “Good to hear,” Young said.

  Nakamura, the officer who had arrested me, unlocked the cell and told me to step out. The female detective patted me down and then removed the handcuffs I had on. She handed them to Nakamura and then produced another pair and handcuffed me again.

  “See you around, Nakamura,” Oshiro said.

  “Yeah, see you guys,” Nakamura said.

  Young and Oshiro walked me out to their blue sedan and put me in the back seat. Oshiro opened the rear door on the other side and got in the backseat beside me. I reckoned that was because the car didn’t have a cage between the front and rear seats like the patrol car I’d been transported to jail in. Young put the car in gear, and we headed back towards Honolulu. Young and Oshiro made small talk on the way, but neither seemed interested in chatting with me.

  Chapter 14

  YOUNG SWUNG THE CAR into a covered garage at HPD Headquarters on Beretania Street and parked. Young and Oshiro put me in a lift and took me upstairs to an interview room. After putting me in a chair at a table, Young removed the handcuffs.

  "Want some water or anything?" Young said.

  "Some water would be awesome," I said.

  "Okay, be right back," Y
oung said, and he walked out of the room.

  "Anyone who knew anything about Douglas Shaw at all knew he was a sexual predator," Oshiro said. "Considering how Shaw was dressed when found in your hotel room, I can imagine he tried to assault you. You tried to fight him off, but he was a big, strong guy. So you grabbed the bottle and hit him to make him stop. You never intended to kill him. Isn’t that what happened?"

  "You got the predator part right I reckon," I said. "But, I wasn’t in the room when Shaw was killed. I can’t tell you anything about that."

  "Come on O’Sullivan," Oshiro said. "You’re only making things worse by lying. We have you on CCTV running out of the hotel minutes before HPD officers found Shaw’s body. I want to help you, but you have to give me something. Something like the truth about what happened."

  "I’m not lying," I said. "I was at the hotel. I’d just arrived there when I found Shaw. I have no idea what he was doing there. But, yeah, he had been hitting on me. Given Shaw had on nothing but a hotel bathrobe it’s quite clear what he must have had in mind for when I returned. But he had already carked it before I arrived."

  "If that’s true, why did you run?" Oshiro said. "Why didn’t you call 911?"

  "It was obvious I was being framed for Shaw’s murder," I said. "I needed to find out who killed Shaw and was trying to frame me to clear myself. Shaw was already dead. I checked. Calling 911 wasn’t going to help him. If I’d called 911 or waited there for the police, I’d have ended up right here where I’m at now. And, this is not helping me find out who framed me."

  "Again, if that’s true, it’s our job to investigate Shaw’s murder. You had no business trying to get involved in a criminal investigation. You’ve only made yourself look guilty, or more guilty."

  Young walked back into the room and set a bottle of water on the table in front of me. Young looked at Oshiro. She shook her head side to side. "Go grab a cup of coffee, Oshiro," he said. She took a long stare at me and then walked out of the room. Young sat down at the table across from me. I sipped some water.