Wherein Chief Investigator Steve McGarrett reflects on lessons learned during his experiences with Cathy the Flirt in “Time and Memories“ (Season 3).
The clock on Steve McGarrett’s desk read 9:41. Dan Williams had just left the Five-0 offices for the night, and Steve was alone – finally. He opened the door to the lanai. As he stepped outside, he was unaware of the noise of the traffic on the streets, below; snippets of music from a distant bar; or the light breeze that cooled his face. His thoughts were far away.
"Did you ever get the feeling you were doing something you did before?"
That line, spoken by Cathy Wallis earlier that day, as she had waited to board her flight home to San Francisco, had opened the last of Steve’s wounds, wounds of which there were many, wounds resurfacing from their first meeting oh, so many years ago. He remembered being on the verge of tears.
My guard wasn't up when I answered Cathy's call.
The call in question had waked Steve at 2:45 in the morning, instantly flooding his mind with memories of an earlier time he had spent with Cathy. Then, he had met her on the way to the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor. The whirlwind courtship that had followed had been as powerful as a whirlpool in the deep blue sea. It had ended as sharply as waves crashing upon a rocky shoreline. She had revealed her necessity for leaving: She was marrying another man, a man who was waiting for her.
Why wasn’t my guard up? Was it because she called during the wee hours, when both my body and mind were fuctioning at their lowest level? I was at the office late that night. I had been asleep for only an hour...maybe a little longer. No! Of course not! My guard wasn’t up, because I had not thought about her in years and had not expected to see her ever again.
It had not been easy to raise his guard later that morning, either. He had gone to a beach house in Kahala to investigate the murder of San Francisco business tycoon Frank Wallis. After his detectives had briefed him on their findings, he had started into the bedroom to question Wallis’ widow. The shock of finding Cathy there and learning that the victim had been her husband had dealt him another blow. From then on, he had been unable to raise his guard.
Steve remembered looking through Cathy’s dresses at the beach house. The experience had roused within him memories of their last evening together. The memory was a painful one.
She lied to me at our first meeting, and she lied to me at this meeting. Why did she tell me I had been right when I had implored her to remain and allow our relationship to develop?To apologize? Or to rekindle our relationship? Relationship? Nonsense! It was no relationship; it was an affair! In the end, that was all I was to her – an affair as brief as her vacation to Hawai`i. She lied again when she said she loved me. If she said anything truthful, it was that she always gets what she wants. If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else.
Steve turned and walked back into his office. He closed the doors to the lanai, poured himself another cup of coffee, and sat in his high-backed leather desk chair. He stared directly ahead. His eyes might have been focused upon Montague Dawson’s painting, The Great Tea Race, but his mind did not take it in. His mind was not taking anything in but reproaches.
The worst part of the whole sordid mess is that I didn't live up to the high standards of the work ethics I set for myself. Danno was right. I should have stepped down and let him lead the investigation. After all, I would have taken Danno off the case, if he been in my place. But no. I forgot my credo and pulled rank on him. "Rank has its privileges," as the saying goes. Pah!
A slight smile crept across Steve’s face. It was full of contempt. Contempt for whom? For Cathy, who had used him? For himself for not maintaining his objectivity after all the warnings she had given him that she could not be trusted? For himself for allowing his emotions to get in the way? Some of the above? No. For all of the above.
The chief investigator of Hawaii Five-0 turned in his chair. Now, he focused on the model 19th-century sailing ship that stood upon a table between the front windows. As he absently traced a string of rigging, he vowed never to let personal matters interfere with his professional work ethic ever again. Turning his hurt inward, he put it under lock and key.
“The ways of love are strange.” Those words, recalled from an earlier case he had solved, would haunt him until long into the night.
Wherein Steve McGarrett's second-in-command, Dan Williams, reflects upon his behavior and contemplates the occurrence that resulted in his arresting Harold Klein in "Pig in a Blanket" (Season 5)
Dan closed the door of his apartment. Taking off his jacket and tie, he threw them on the couch and dropped into an armchair. He was so exhausted and lost in thought that he did not glance at the photo of Jane Michaels on the table beside him. Jane, the girl he had loved so dearly, had been murdered as a disguise for the woman the killer was really after. Dan sighed and rubbed his tired eyes, which had dark circles under them. He felt emotionally and physically drained after the past eventful days.
Chinough Olena, the man to whom I owe my life…killed a few minutes after we parted… killed by a junkie he had pursued high into the hills above Hawaii Kai. His death got away with me so badly that I nearly got into a fight after someone snickered when Chinough's death was announced on TV. Ben managed to get me out in time. No sooner had I left the sports bar than I went after a young man I thought had robbed that drugstore… shot him, because I mistook the soldering iron he was holding for a gun. When Steve defended me against the reporters, I had nothing better to do than tell them I guessed I was guilty. I handed Steve my gun and badge in front of the cameras. Not my finest hour.
"Watch, listen, and learn," the professors at Berkeley had drummed into me innumerable times. Did I really learn anything from shooting that boy, Thad, a few years ago? Granted, it was a first for me, but I bawled like a toddler when I complained to Steve what a stinking job this was. Steve was hard on me, then, and I listened to him and tried not to bleed from then on. But... be honest with yourself, Williams, you tried not to show him.
When I beat Peter King, whom I suspected of having murdered Jane, I intended to resign. I remember, oh, so well, entering Steve's office, my letter of resignation in hand… how carefully I opened the door and peeked inside and found Steve sitting at his desk, his back turned to the door. Not only did Steve refused to accept my resignation; he even said, "If Pete King wants to file charges, I'll do what I can."
In all those cases Steve had faith in me, but did I have faith in myself? Whenever something I’m involved in might have gone wrong, I am full of self-doubt. I bathe in
self-pity and want to give up. What kind of cop am I, anyway?
Dan arose, went into the small kitchen, and took a can of beer from the refrigerator. So forcefully did he slam the door in self-disgust that the contents rattled inside.
After we left Ricky Klein's hospital room and Steve said it was time to bluff big brother Harold, he told me, "Stick around." I wouldn't have been surprised if he had said, "Watch, listen and learn." I always assumed that there lurks a hunter in Steve, that there was more up his sleeve than showing me how things are done. I'm convinced he enjoyed bluffing Harold. I'm sure his lips twitched a tiny bit and have no doubt that his eyes had a predator's look.
I watched and listened - and I learned. Still, I wonder whether I will ever be able to bluff a suspect so convincingly, myself. Probably not. That is Steve’s style. In time, I will develop my own style. But this much I swear: I will never let Steve down or cause him to regret turning Five-0 over to me when the time comes.
Dreams – 0014 Hours
How he got here, he could not remember, but it did not matter. He nestled into the sand that had retained the sun’s heat and was still comfortably warm. He felt the sand beneath him shifting, molding to his body. The sky spread above him like a gigantic canopy cut from a very large piece of dark blue velvet. A soft breeze carried the salty smell of the sea mingled with the heavy scent of tropical flowers to his nostrils.
“This is really the fragrant tree country” came to his mind. Now, where had he read that line? And when? He could not remember.
He listened to the soft murmur of the waves. The calm around him was soothing, enveloping him, sending his thoughts adrift.
Strange, he wondered. It is December. Huge breakers should be crashing on the rocks, roaring. But tonight is Christmas Eve. Maybe that is why everything is so quiet and calm.
Christmas Eve. Memories of many Christmases floated through his mind, many of them spent on duty, others spent alone in his condo or at his beach house. Often, he had been invited by colleagues or friends to spend Christmas Eve with them; he had gone, sometimes, but always had felt like an intruder. Why had he never thought of coming here before?
The calm suddenly was interrupted by the loud ringing of a bell.
So, Santa isn’t arriving on a surfboard this year; he is riding on an ice wagon, he thought, giving a silent chuckle.
The ringing did not stop. He stirred, reluctantly opening his eyes. His glance traveled to a desk lamp, which shone down, upon a coffee mug and a clock, which read 12:14. Suddenly, he realized that the ringing bell was actually his telephone ringing. He grabbed the receiver and raised it to his ear.
“Steve, Paul Jameson,” came the governor’s very familiar voice over the line. “I’m sorry to disturb you on Christmas Eve, but it is urgent. Please come to Washington Place right away. Oh, and Steve, mele kalikimaka.”
Before Steve could return the greeting or ask what was so urgent, the call was disconnected.
Mele kalikimaka. It was Christmas Day.
The Residence – 0102 Hours
Less than an hour after the call was made, a long, black Mercury Marquis Brougham passed through security gates and came to a stop beside what appeared to be a large sunroom. When the glass doors were raised, however, it became the Grand Lanai, perhaps where more of Hawai`i’s official entertaining took place than anywhere else. Tonight, the doors were closed. The driver’s door opened, and the long, thin legs of the State of Hawai`i’s chief investigator emerged. In a seamless motion, they began walking into the governor’s residence, Washington Place.
With its distinctive Creole influences, the grand Greek Revival house might have been sited anywhere along the Mississippi River Road, between New Orleans, Louisiana, and Natchez, Mississippi. No doubt, its design was influenced by its builder’s travels there, for that man was a sea captain, Captain John Dominis. Before construction of the house was complete, the captain set sail for China in order to purchase furniture for the house. Caught in a storm, his ship capsized, and he was lost at sea.
In order to keep the house, the newly widowed Mary Dominis rented rooms. One of her tenants, on the event of George Washington’s birthday, suggested that she name the house Washington Place. She did.
John and Mary Dominis had a son, also named John, who grew up to marry Lydia Kalakaua. She was the sister of David Kalakaua, and upon King David’s death in 1891, she ascended to the throne as Queen Lili`uokalani. She would be the last monarch of the Kingdom of Hawai`i.
In 1893, Queen Lili descended from the throne with the overthrow of the Kingdom by British and American businessmen. When arms were found buried on the grounds of Washington Place, the former queen was placed under house arrest in `Iolani Palace. There she remained for three years, for the government of the Republic of Hawai`i refused to believe that she had no knowledge of the existence of the weapons. Only after Congress had voted her imprisonment illegal was she freed and allowed to return home to Washington Place. There, she had remained for the rest of her life.
The residence, as it is called, would be the home of the governors of the Territory and State of Hawai`I until 2001. Then, a new residence was constructed to house the state’s chief executives. Now, Washington Place is a museum of Hawaiian history, although it continues to be used for official entertaining.
'Ohana - 0104
Now, the lights were dim in the lanai, affording Steve McGarrett little more than travel vision as he made his way toward the main part of the house. As he reached the doorway to the corridor, which separated Queen Lili`uokalani’s music room from the Blue Room, where guests were welcomed, he encountered the state’s beloved chief executive. Unlike McGarrett, who wore a crisply tailored suit, Governor Paul Jameson wore pajamas and a robe.
“Thank you for coming so promptly, Steve,” the governor said.
“Of course, sir.”
It seemed as though Paul Jameson felt a need to say something before he allowed the words he wanted to speak to come forth, for he added, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Actually, McGarrett was not sure whether Jameson had waked him or not. How did one define that state of existence that was neither wakefulness nor sleep? He replied by saying, “Not at all, sir.”
The men walked across the house and into a small room. Once, it had been Queen Lili`uokalani’s bedroom. Now, it was Paul Jameson’s study. As Steve reached the two chairs that faced the governor’s handsomely carved desk, he turned to see his employer closing the door.
Before Jameson could take more than a few steps toward his desk, both men perceived the sound of something scratching the door. Jameson turned and opened the door. There sat his dog. The aging Basset Hound looked up at him with eyes that might well have asked why he had been shut out. Jameson opened the door farther ajar, and the dog walked in and to Steve’s side. His tail wagged happily as Steve leaned down and began to rub his long, brown ears.
“Ambrose, this is entirely too important for Steve to rub your ears,” Jameson protested.
“He’s fine, sir,” Steve told the governor. Even as he spoke, he patted Ambrose, who curled up at his feet and promptly fell asleep.
“We’ll see,” Jameson said with an air of impatience in his voice. “I’ll tell you why I called you here, Steve. I haven’t waked Emily, because I don’t want to worry her at this point, but… Well, the point is, Leilani has not come home. She was supposed to come in no later than 11:00. I’ve called her friends; no one has seen or heard from her. When she still had not arrived at midnight, I called you.”
Without waiting to hear more, Steve arose and took up the receiver of the governor’s telephone. He dialed the number for central dispatch at the HPD.
“This is McGarrett. Put out an APB for the governor’s daughter, Leilani Jameson. Eighteen years old, five-foot-six inches tall… Oh, let’s say 110 pounds. Strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, medium complexion. Beautiful, like her mother.”
“Will do, Mr. McGarrett.”
“And mark it top priority, Kimo.”
“Who was she going out with, sir?” Steve asked as he continued to hold the telephone receiver.
“Her boyfriend, Moki Kaena. He’s six-two, 200 or so pounds, Hawaiian coloration and features,” Jameson said.
“Did you get that, Kimo?” Steve asked into the telephone.
“Yes, sir. Do you have a description of his car?”
“Beat up old contraption,” Jameson spat.
Steve said, “Let’s call it a ’61 Chevy, white, two door, hubcaps missing, regular old rust bucket. If it’s not registered in his name, it will be in his father’s name, Ben Kaena.”
“We’ll find it, sir.”
“I’m at the residence, if you need me.”
Breaking the connection, Steve dialed another number. “Danno? Steve. Wake the troops. We have a possible kidnapping. Leilani Jameson.”
“I never did like that boy,” Jameson said as Steve hung up.
“He seems a little rough around the edges,” Steve agreed.
“She sees him to spite me, you know. She doesn’t like politics or politicians, not even me,” Jameson said.
“She’s young. Give her a few years.”
Jameson looked up at Steve. “If she has a few years.”
“It’s too early to start having thoughts like that, sir. Chances are, they’re out listening to music and have lost track of the time.”
“I hope you’re right, Steve, but Leilani has changed since in recent years. She’s no longer the sweet little girl, who was content to stay in her room and play her stereo full blast.”
Before Steve could speak, the door to the study opened, and Emily Jameson looked in. She was a beautiful woman, tall and slender with snow-white hair that fairly glistened against her golden Hawaiian complexion. Her given name was Emele, although most people gave it its Anglicized pronunciation and spelling. Usually, she wore slim-fitting, pastel lanai dresses with mandarin collars and matching slippers. Now, she wore a long, pale blue gown and matching negligee with matching slippers.
“Paul, Lani’s not in her room,” she said.
“I know. That’s why I called Steve.”
“Has something happened to her?” Emily asked in horror.
“Probably not,” Steve said, “although we are initiating a search.”
“Oh, that child is so stubborn!” Emily spat as she sank into the chair beside Steve’s and folded her arms across her chest. “I wouldn’t put it past her to be right outside, hiding in the bushes, just trying to frighten us.”
“We’ll have security search the grounds, then,” Steve said as he took up the telephone yet again.
“Moki? McGarrett. Has Lani Jameson come onto the grounds tonight?”
“No, sir. We were growing worried.”
“I’ve put out an APB on her and her boyfriend. The Five-0 team is gearing up, as well. Have your men search the grounds, behind shrubbery, and in other potential hiding places just in case she’s trying to irritate her parents.” He looked at the Jamesons and said, “Forgive me, please.”
“Say it! That’s how she acts these days,” Emily replied. The governor nodded in agreement.
Next, Steve called airport security, as well as the harbor patrol, which provided security for the many small boat harbors around the island. Neither had a report of anyone matching Leilani Jameson’s description leaving by air or water.
“If you see her, take her into custody and let me know,” Steve requested from each. To the Jamesons, he said, “Chances are, she’s still on the island. Again, I wouldn’t worry, yet. There aren’t many places she can go. She’ll turn up soon.”
“But if it’s a kidnapping…,” the governor started.
“Paul! No!” Emily exclaimed. “That hasn’t happened. Don’t even suggest it.”
“If it is a kidnapping, we should hear from the kidnappers within the next few hours,” Steve said in quiet tones.
The Long Night – 0300 Hours
Scarcely a word had been said for the past hour. Now, it was three o’clock. The bars, restaurants, and honky tonks around the island were closed for the night. It was the legal hour.
“She’ll be home soon,” Paul said hopefully.
Neither Steve nor Emily replied.
Meanwhile, Dan Williams, Kono Kalakaua, and Chin Ho Kelly were establishing a command center at Five-0 headquarters. Dan put out orders to radio and television stations and to the newspapers to ask anyone who saw or heard from Leilani Jameson or Moki Kaena to call Five-0’s emergency number as quickly as possible. Chin Ho sat down to man the line. Kono drove to Aiea to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Kaena. Dan coordinated among the residence, the HPD, and Five-0. There was pitifully little to coordinate.
Christmas Morning – 0700 Hours
“Well, we haven’t received a demand for ransom. That’s good,” Steve said as dawn broke.
“She didn’t come home when the music venues closed,” Jameson noted.
“No, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still with Kaena,” Steve reminded him. “Unless we receive a ransom demand, we can rule out kidnapping.
Kono walked into the Five-0 office and reported, “The Kaenas haven’t seen or heard from Moki, either.”
“Then, it seems likely that he and Leilani are still together,” Dan deduced. “Did the Kaenas have anything to offer?”
“Yeah, and the Jamesons aren’t gonna like it, either,” Kono replied. “They think Leilani and Moki are planning to elope.”
“Elope?” Chin asked with a grin. “What could she possibly see in a boy like him? His background is so far removed from hers that one has to wonder how they even met!”
“That’s probably the key to the case, Chin,” Dan said. “She’s eighteen and has always been sheltered by two overly adoring parents. He’s a bit on the wild side. No doubt, he seems exciting to her.”
“Their plan is to elope to the Mainland,” Kono added. “Moki is determined that he can get a high-paying job there and pay next to nothing for a place to live.”
Chin chuckled. “I hate to tell him, but it doesn’t work like that!”
“Which puts Miss Jameson in a very vulnerable position,” Dan concluded.
“No!” Emily exploded when she heard the report. “I will not have my daughter marry that good-for-nothing…”
“Emily, please,” Paul pleaded.
“But she’ll ruin her life if she goes off with that boy!” Emily insisted.
“I agree. Still, we will accomplish nothing if we approach her with words like those. We must take a diplomatic approach.”
“The diplomatic approach?” Emily exploded. “Paul Alan Jameson, we tried the diplomatic approach a year ago! She took it as our approval and hasn’t shown any signs that she intends to stop seeing that boy. Now, we are told that they plan to elope. No, Paul. We will not be taking a diplomatic approach!”
The Waiting Continues – 1300 Hours
Truck Kealoha called out as he walked into the Five-0 office.
“Hey, Danny! They were spotted!”
“Good, Truck! Where? When?” Dan wanted to know.
“Just before noon. They were loading enough food to last a week aboard the governor’s yacht at the Ala Wai Yacht Harbor.”
“Did they set sail?”
“No. Moki clearly didn’t know what he was doing; so, the harbormaster told him to stay in port until he could hire a crew to take them out.”
“The harbormaster – Lew – should have called me!” Jameson said when Truck relayed the information to those at the residence.
“He did, sir. An aide at the residence told the harbormaster to run them off. Apparently, he thought they were just a pair of hooligans.”
Jameson threw up his hands in despair.
“What aide?” Emily wanted to know.
“Lew didn’t know,” Truck reported. “A man, sounded young…”
“It’s the new boy, John,” Emily deduced. “I’ve told you, Paul. He doesn’t have sense to come in out of the rain!”
“Let’s bring him in,” Steve said. “Find out what he knows. What is his last name, sir?”
“Morgan. John Morgan,” Jameson replied.
“He’s probably in the social office,” Emily added.
“Find him, Truck, and take him to the office. Then, interrogate him and let me know what comes of it,” Steve said.
“Done, Steve,” Truck replied even as he turned to leave.
Emily studied Steve. “You frighten me, sometimes, Stephen. Just when I think you are a gentleman, you turn absolutely ruthless.”
“It’s my job, Miss Emily. I can’t afford to be nice to criminals or to those who aid and abet them,” Steve replied.
“I hired Steve to be ruthless,” Paul added. “He can’t be effective, otherwise.”
Finally! – 1532 Hours
Duke Lukela walked into the governor’s study. His expression was hopeful. “Excuse me, Governor, but I thought you would want to hear this.”
“Whaddaya got, Duke?” Steve asked.
“A car matching the description of Moki Kaena’s old Chevy was seen at a service station in Waianae. “The owner of the station was put out, because he only bought a dollar’s worth of gas.”
“A dollar’s worth with gas prices what they are today?” Steve asked.
“That’s the word. The attendant told Moki that it wouldn’t get him very far and had the impression that it was all the money he had on him. He said something else, too, Steve.”
“Go!” Steve replied.
“He said the lady with him didn’t look like she was from his side of the tracks, as he put it.”
“Finally! Someone has some sense!” Emily exclaimed.
Duke continued, “He wondered if something were wrong, because Moki seemed nervous, and the woman was slumping down in the seat.”
“Oh, something’s wrong, alright!” Emily declared. “Where did they go? Was she wearing a ring? But she wouldn’t have been. If he couldn’t afford more than a dollar of gas, he certainly couldn’t afford to give my Leilani a ring!” Furious, she kicked at a lump in the rug. Her toe came into contact with something. “Ambrose, what have you hidden under this rug?”
The dog nosed under the rug and pulled out a chew toy. Everyone broke into laughter, and Ambrose walked under Paul’s desk to work over his toy.
The Much Feared Call – 1620 Hours
Steve answered the telephone. “Governor’s residence.”
“You the governor?” a voice asked.
“No. Who is this?” Steve asked as he motioned for Duke to call for a trace on the call.
“That’s unimportant. Put the governor on.”
“Not unless you tell me who you are,” Steve insisted.
“Hey, man! Just who do you think you are?” the caller exploded.
“I thought that was my line,” Steve replied in an effort to prolong the conversation.
“Look, bird-brain, if the guv wants to see his precious little angel again, you’d better put him on.”
“Hold on.” Steve covered the mouthpiece and told Jameson, “He sounds like he may have Leilani. He said he won’t return her unless he talks to you. Try and draw out the conversation. See what you can learn from him.”
Paul nodded and took the receiver from Steve. “This is the governor.”
“Yeah. That’s you, guv. I know your voice. Who was that other fellow?”
“One of my aides,” Jameson replied simply. “You will have to forgive his reluctance to put your call through to me. He was following his usual instructions.”
“Forget the instructions, old man. It’s like this: If you wanna see sweet Leilani ever again, this is what you’ll do.”
“Excuse me a minute. There’s static on the line. Let me go to a better phone.”
“A bad line at the governor’s house? Be quick about it, guv.”
Paul took a legal pad and pencil from his desk, so he could make notes if he needed to. Seeing Steve motioning for him to extend the wait, he covered the mouthpiece and said, “He’s not going to wait long.”
“We’ve nearly got him,” Steve said.
Paul nodded, waited another thirty seconds, then went back on the line. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Now, tell me what you want.”
“I want $10,000 in small, unmarked bills and a plane ticket to the Mainland. No tricks. Try to arrest me at the airport, and the deal’s off. I don’t tell you where she is. Got it?”
“When do you want to leave? What date and time should I give the airline?” Paul asked.
Steve nodded in approval.
“I don’t care, man! Make it tonight at ten o’clock.”
“I’ll see what I can do. This is very late notice.”
“Just do it, man!”
With that, the connection was broken. Paul shook his head as he replaced the receiver upon its cradle.
“Did we get him, Duke?” Steve asked.
“Yeah. He called from a pay phone in Waianae. It’s at the Exxon station across from the police station.”
Emily looked at her husband. “He only asked for $10,000?”
“That must seem like a lot of money to a man like that,” Paul replied.
Duke Lukela had been coordinating calls among HPD officers for the better part of the afternoon when the governor’s security chief Moki Lacuna called.
“I’m transferring a call from the Waianae precinct, Mr. Lukela.”
“Good, Moki. Put him on. Captain Kauakahe? Duke Lukela here. How may I help you?”
“The Kaena kid is at a pay phone across from the precinct station. We’ve been watching him ever since he drove up in that beat-up Chevy.”
“Good! Follow him in an unmarked car. We don’t want to tip him off that we’re on to him. You’ll need to use a CP unit to communicate with us. Find out where he’s holding Miss Jameson. We’re on our way.”
The Approach – 1710 Hours
Three black Five-0 cars and a half-dozen HPD cars sped ewa on the H-1 with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Even exceeding the posted speed limits, their drive took more than a half-hour. As they neared Waianae, Steve’s radio crackled to life.
“Waianae One to McGarrett.”
“Go ahead, Waianae One,” Steve replied.
“We’ve tailed the car to Kaena Point State Park – the southern end.”
“It took him forty-five minutes to get out there?”
“He made a stop at the Food Pantry for beer and chips.”
Steve wondered, what did he use for money? Didn’t the gas station attendant say he seemed to be down to his last dime?
Aloud, he said, “Okay, Waianae One. Continue surveillance, but do not approach. We’re passing through Waianae, now. Should catch up with you shortly.”
Minutes later, Steve, Duke, and Truck passed through Makaha. Now, they turned off their sirens and lights. There was no need for them, for there was little habitation north of Makaha and almost no traffic. Some ten minutes later, just as the road started to bend, close to the sea, they caught up with the Waianae patrolmen. The Waianae precinct captain’s blue sports coupe was parked on the left – or ocean – side of the road, where it was blocked from view by shrubs and a large rock. Steve pulled in behind him. Getting out of his car, he walked forward to meet the captain.
“There’s the white Chevy, Mr. McGarrett. Odd thing is that he parked it out, in full view of anyone who drives past.”
“Out, yes,” Steve agreed.
He took up a pair of binoculars and looked at the car. Although it was parked at an angle that prevented him from seeing the license plate, it gave every indication that it was the car in question. Looking farther up the beach, he could see a couple lying in the sand. The woman had strawberry blonde hair, as did Leilani Jameson. Steve nodded.
“It’s them,” he said.
The question, as he saw it, was whether things were what they seemed. The couple did not appear to be under stress. Rather, they seemed to be completely relaxed. To know for sure, however, he was going to have to move closer.
Walking back to his car, he removed his tie and the coat from his suit. Then, taking up a light-blue windbreaker, he donned it. He exchanged his dress shoes for a pair of running shoes. He would like to have worn a pair of white twill slacks, but all he had with him was a pair of jogging shorts. With the sun about to disappear over the horizon, it was too cold to wear shorts. He took up his sun visor and donned it, as well. Yes, the sun was setting, but the visor would give the impression that he had been out for some time. When he was satisfied that he had done all he could to make himself pass for someone who was walking idly along the beach, he rejoined the others, who now included nearly two dozen HPD patrolmen.
“I’m going to go forward. See what I can find out. Give me five minutes. Then, one at a time, spacing yourself so as not to look like we’re on a raid, come forward slowly and quietly. No lights, no sirens, no sudden movements. Go beyond the lane leading to the beach and park behind the grasses. When you’re all in place, move in, and we’ll take Kaena.”
Returning to his car, Steve pulled onto the road and drove slowly toward the two-track lane where the white Chevy was parked. It was hardly wide enough for his big car. As he pulled in behind it, he saw that its license number matched that given for the car Moki Kaena was known to drive. It was almost completely dark, now.
After taking a flash light from the glove compartment, Steve stepped casually from his car. He noticed that something seemed vaguely familiar, yet he did not take the time to think about what that something might be. As he passed the car, he touched the hood. It felt warm, indicating that it had been driven fairly recently. Continuing on, he followed the path to its end at the beach. As he neared the sandy beach, he caught a glimpse of a reflection of some kind at the point where he knew the couple to be. Carefully, he moved in the direction of the reflection, relying on it to guide him, lest the couple discover him.
He strained his ears. The soft murmur of the waves brought back memories from his dream the night before, but below that he heard voices whisper. As he made his way slowly, yet steadily forward, he distinguished the voices of a woman and a man.
Makamae – 1752 Hours
“Look at the sky, makamae. Doesn’t it look like a canopy made of velvet?” Leilani asked. She called her lover ‘precious’.
Steve had no time to dwell on the fact that Leilani had put into words the sensations that he had been experiencing only hours earlier, when the ringing telephone had interrupted his thoughts – or was it a dream? Instead, he kept his mind on the matter at hand. Namely, this young woman did not sound as if she were in trouble, nor did she appear to be as her head rested on the shoulder of the man she loved – or thought she loved. Nor did the man appear to have ulterior motives. His arms were wrapped around her, and he was nibbling on her ear as they lay in the sand beside a cluster of lavender flowers.
Still, observation would take him only so far. Despite what might prove to be an intrusion on a sincerely felt relationship, Steve must move forward and make his presence known. Switching on his flash light, he walked toward them and called out, “Miss Jameson, Mr. Kaena?”
The couple spun around hastily to face him.
“Mr. McGarrett!” Leilani exclaimed. Her eyes reflected that she felt frightened.
Moki, on the other hand, did not appear frightened, only startled. Despite the couple’s reactions, they did not give the appearance of being a kidnapper and his victim. Steve decided to take an indirect approach.
“I’m sorry to intrude, Miss Jameson…”
“Leilani, please, Mr. McGarrett.”
“Leilani… Moki… You seem to enjoy this particular beach.”
As he spoke, Steve visually searched for any sign of a weapon. He saw none, although he could not tell whether Moki might be lying on top of one.
“Yes, Mr. McGarrett,” Leilani was saying. “It is so soothing here. It is a refuge for us.”
“A refuge?” Steve inquired, his eyebrows raised. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. A refuge from what?”
“You see, Mr. McGarrett, being the governor’s daughter means I can’t live like everyone else. Journalists try to get a glimpse of me. Security men have been around me since I was little. I hate it!”
“That’s understandable,” Steve allowed as, out of the corner of his eye, he watched Duke, Truck, and the members of the Waianae precinct moving in.
“My father and I quarreled for the umpteenth time about it, yesterday. I want to study Hawaiian studies. I want to know more about the history, the culture, and the language of the Hawaiian people. My father says the only place to do so would be the University of Hawai`i – and he’s right. But his reasons have to do with it being the only place for a daughter of the governor of Hawai`i to study. I want to take my general coursework at a mainland university, where I can be just one student among many. When those two years are over, I’ll return to Hawai`i to complete my major coursework. By then, my father will have completed his third term of office. Because the legislature has voted to limit the terms of governor, someone else will have taken his place. I will be able to finish my studies, like anyone else would.”
Steve nodded and said again, “That’s understandable.” He turned to Moki. “And is this a refuge for you, as well?”
“Yeah. In everyone’s opinion I’m not good enough for the governor’s daughter. People think I’m reaching too high, stepping out of bounds. So, we come here to get away from them.”
“…To listen to the waves, to look up at the sky, to take in the scent of the ocean and the flowers,” Leilani added. “The waves and the sky don’t care who listens or looks. I’m sorry, Mr. McGarrett. I don’t mean to get philosophical. You probably don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Steve glanced out to the sea, a small smile on his lips. “I understand better than you might realize, Leilani.” Then, he turned back to business. “Leilani, your father is very worried that you didn’t come home last night. Afraid for your safety, he called me. You need to go back and explain.”
“He won’t understand, Mr. McGarrett. He always puts his social and political position above all else.”
Steve chuckled inwardly. Who knows that better than I do? Aloud, he said, “Why don’t you and Moki go back with me? I’ll put in a good word with your father.”
“No way, McGarrett!” Moki exploded as his quiet, romantic tones turned to angry ones. “I’ve got plans, and they do not include listening to that idiot governor pretend he’s so great.”
“Moki!” Leilani exclaimed as horror covered her face.
“Cut the shit, Lani. He’s an idiot, and we both know it,” the young man insisted. “Now, you clear out, McGarrett. Lani and I are leaving – without you.”
As he spoke, Moki reached behind himself. In the same instant, three figures rushed up behind him. Truck grabbed his arms, while Duke retrieved a revolver, which was stashed in his waistband, under his shirt, in the small of his back.
“Moki! What is this?” Leilani exclaimed as panic engulfed her.
“As soon as the guv gets the ten thou and the plane ticket, I’m off of this stinkin’ island!” Moki continued to rant.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the precinct captain told him as he handcuffed Kaena’s hands behind him. “I would suggest you exercise that right.”
“Book ‘im, Captain,” Steve said. “Have him taken downtown. Duke, call the lab boys to come out here. I want them to go over this beach and that car with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Right, Steve,” Duke replied.
“How’d you know?” Kaena asked.
“Next time, don’t use a pay phone across the street from a police station,” the captain said as two of his men propelled Kaena toward the roadway.
As she watched Moki try to squirm away from the policemen, Leilani broke down in sobs. Steve drew her near, and she burrowed her face in his chest. “I didn’t think he was like that.”
“I’m sorry that he is. Come on. I’ll take you home.”
“But nothing has changed. Daddy will still make me stay here to go to school.”
“We’ll talk to him. Make sure he isn’t letting his love for his little girl cloud his ability to see that she is now a grown woman,” Steve told her with a smile.
“You think that’s what’s going on?”
“Bank on it. No one rates higher in Paul Jameson’s book than his sweet Leilani.”
The telephone rang, waking Steve McGarrett from a sound sleep. He gave a moan as he rolled over to answer it. A glance at the clock beside the bed told him that it was 2:42 in the morning; he had been asleep for only two hours. Going home and going to bed at midnight was not unusual for the chief investigator; actually, being waked in the middle of the night was not unusual, either. He wished it had happened another night, but such occurrences never happened to suit one’s convenience.
“McGarrett,” he said into the receiver.
During normal waking hours, he’d have answered his home telephone with a simple “Hello.” In the middle of the night, though, the call could only have been related to business, and, so, he answered it with his business salutation.
“Mr. McGarrett, this is Keoki at Central Dispatch.”
“Yeah, Keoki. Whaddaya got?”
“You need to know there’s been a fatal accident on the Nimitz Highway, near the airport.”
“Was one of my detectives involved?”
“No, sir, but Ben Ludwick was. He’s the fatality.”
Ben Ludwick was a real-estate developer in the islands. Five-0 had investigated him for crimes ranging from bribery of building inspectors to obtaining land by illegal means. At present, an investigation of two arson cases showed that Ludwick might have been involved.
“Who was with him?” Steve wanted to know.
“His driver. He’s alive, but just barely. The paramedics took him to the Kapi`olani Medical Center in Aiea. The HPD’s still investigating the accident scene. Just thought you’d want to know.”
You bet I want to know! Steve said in his thoughts. Aloud, he said, “Thank you, Keoki. I’m on my way.”
After breaking the connection, Steve started to dial Dan Williams’ home phone number. Before dialing the last two numbers, he stopped and replaced the receiver. It made no sense to wake Dan for a traffic accident. In all likelihood, the file against Ludwick would be closed as soon as a few I’s had been dotted and T’s crossed. Rising, he dressed; in less than five minutes, he was on his way downstairs to collect his car.
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the accident scene. He parked on the side of the road and walked forward in time to see an HPD crime scene investigator emerge from beneath the long, black limousine in which Ludwick often had been seen around town.
“What did you find, Mike?” Steve asked.
“No cut brake linings. No tampering with the steering mechanism. I’ll have to take it to the lab before I can dig any deeper,” the investigator replied.
“Still, you suspect tampering of some sort?”
“Why else would he sail through the intersection, against the light, at seventy miles an hour?”
Steve pursed his lips. “No skid marks?”
“Did you check to see whether the accelerator stuck?”
“At first glance, it did not, but I’ll check it more thoroughly at the lab.”
Steve nodded. “Thanks, Mike.” He walked over to the ambulance into which the paramedics were about to lift the cloth-covered body and gurney. Turning back the cover, he flinched as he saw the blood-stained and battered face of the developer.
“He was thrown all about that car, Steve,” said Doc Bergman. “I found him with his head through the glass dividing the driver’s and passenger’s compartments. He’s lucky he wasn’t decapitated.”
Steve nodded and turned to one of a half-dozen patrolmen, who were on the scene. “What about the people in the other car, Moki?”
“One occupant, the driver. He was shook up pretty badly, but survived. They took him to Kapi`olani in Aiea, too.”
“He was on the cross street?”
“That’s what we think, but we’re still investigating.”
Steve nodded. “Send me a report when you’ve finished, will you, Mike?”
Getting back into his car, Steve turned around and drove home. He tumbled into bed without even looking to see what time it was. For the record, it was just before 4:00.
Benjamin K. Ludwick, male, Caucasian, age 54. Born Odgen, Utah. Degree in civil engineering from the Rocky Mountain School of Technology, professional licenses held in Utah and Hawai`i. Married to Joan Nesbitt, also from Ogden, Utah. Three grown children. Membership in all the right professional and civic organizations…
“Do you know what really irritates me, Chin?” Steve asked as he read through Ben Ludwick’s file for the nth time. “On the surface, this man is rock solid, the kind of man most mothers dream their sons will become.”
“Yeah. Maybe he’s just a little too perfect,” Chin suggested. “There’s gotta be something lurking under the surface.”
“Then, why couldn’t we nail him?” Steve wanted to know.
“Maybe there’s nothing lurking under the surface,” Dan suggested.
“Then, explain the arson and building inspectors retiring to Bali.”
“I can’t, Steve,” Dan replied.
“No, Danno. Ben Ludwick wasn’t perfect. He was up to something, and I want to know what it was,” Steve insisted.
“But he’s dead!” Kono protested.
“He’s dead, but the men who worked with him are not. Schemes that big don’t stop with one man,” Steve insisted, “and someone wanted him dead. We’re going to find out who that someone was, and we’re going to shut ‘im down. Okay, gentlemen. Let’s get busy. Danno, you go to the HPD lab and see how Mike and Che are coming on their findings at the scene. Kono, you get on the coconut wireless and find out what the word is out on the street. Chin, you check the county records and find out what projects Ludwick was working on. I want to know who his clients were, who the other companies were that bidded on his jobs…the works.”
“Will do, Steve,” Chin replied.
“I’m going to Aiea to see if I can talk to the drivers of the two cars,” Steve added as he followed his detectives from his office.
Both drivers had been taken to the Aiea Medical Center. Steve did not know whether Ludwick’s driver, Sam Chu, would be able to communicate. According to the police reports, Chu had been seriously injured in the collision. Hopefully, he would be conscious. Steve was doubtful about how much the driver of the other car, Gordon Ling, could tell him, but he would talk to him, as well. The trip proved to be useless: Chu had died twenty minutes before Steve’s arrival at the hospital, and Ling remembered nothing about the collision.
Not wanting his trip to be a complete waste of time, Steve drove to the offices of the Ludwick Development Company. He found the offices closed and a black wreath on the door.
Just when it appeared that the trip would be a complete waste, Steve passed a Ludwick construction site. There, the gates were open as if it were just another work day. On a hunch, Steve circled the block and pulled to the curb on the far side of the cross street. There, he could watch the comings and goings without being readily apparent.
Steve had to wait no more than twenty minutes before he witnessed a blue pick-up truck pull up to the curb near the gates to the construction site. As its driver alit, Steve saw that he was Buck Moore, who managed the docks where ships of construction materials moored and their cargoes offloaded. Now, why would a dock foreman have business at a construction site?
As Steve watched, Moore walked through the gates and spoke to someone just inside. That person nodded, turned, and walked a short distance away. After only a few moments, another man came into view. He was Rick Handley, construction boss for the project. There, before Steve’s eyes, Handley handed a white, business-sized envelope to Moore. Through his binoculars, Steve could tell that the envelope was thick enough to have contained money.
“But that makes no sense, Steve!” Dan exclaimed when Steve briefed his team on what he had witnessed. “If Ludwick Construction is crooked, Moore would be paying them, not the other way around.”
“Unless, Handley was paying Moore for doing a job for him or to keep quiet about something,” Kono suggested.
“Or maybe they were just business papers,” Chin suggested.
“What kind of papers, Chin?” Steve asked.
“A contract, perhaps,” Chin suggested.
“Why would a construction company enter into a contract with the manager of a loading dock?” Kono asked.
“I don’t know, but I do know we shouldn’t assume too much,” Chin said.
“Granted,” Steve agreed, “but we’re gonna dig deep and find out just what is going on.”
“I still say nothing is going on,” Dan spoke up.
“In that case, we will dig deep until we are completely satisfied that nothing is going on,” Steve said with emphasis.
Dan shrugged in a way that said he thought Steve was wasting their time, but he said nothing. Before Steve could challenge him, the door opened and Kono walked in.
“Steve, there’s big pilikia going on down at the docks,” he said.
“What kind of pilikia, Kono?” Steve replied.
“According to Spider Brown, Ludwick Construction is getting their building materials either free or marked way down. The dock claims never to have received them. The insurance company pays off. Ludwick gets the missing materials.”
“Well, I’ll be: an insurance scam!” Steve replied as though a light bulb had gone off. He looked at Dan. “Still think nothing is going on, Danno?”
“If Spider said it, I guess it’s worth checking into,” Dan replied.
Spider Brown was one of the most reliable informants Five-0 had.
“Okay, Kono. You tell Spider there’s money waiting to cross his palm if he can tell us when the next shipment is due in.”
“Already done, Boss,” Kono replied. “It’s coming in Wednesday on the Star of the Pacific. It always docks at Pier 39, where Moore manages the warehouse. Spider said the materials are always off-loaded from the ship and put in the warehouse. Then, in the middle of the night, an unmarked truck arrives and takes them away.”
“How does the truck get into the dock area?” Steve wanted to know.
“Spider didn’t know,” Kono replied.
“Sounds to me like there’s a crooked security guard involved,” Chin offered as he lifted his pipe to his mouth and drew on it.
“You got that right, bruddah!” Steve declared as he leaped up. Drawing a rolled map from a corner, he unrolled it to reveal a detailed drawing of Honolulu Harbor and its many piers and warehouses. Taking push pins from a drawer, he mounted the map on a large, free-standing bulletin board. “Pier 39, you said?”
“Yes, Steve,” Kono affirmed. “Here’s the warehouse that Moore manages.”
“Um hm…,” Steve mused as he studied the layout. “If one security guard is suspect, the entire security company may be involved. That means we have to come up with a way to get in to conduct surveillance without being spotted.”
“Don’t know how. Moore’s not going to trust a new man,” Dan said.
“He won’t, but Joe Lahana, who manages the Kim Chou warehouse next door will. You know him, Danno. See if he can use a few good men next Wednesday.”
Dan nodded. “Okay, Steve. I’d better call him, though. We don’t want Moore to see cops about and get suspicious.”
“Good point. Let me know what he says, Danno.” Steve turned to Kono. “Does Spider know who ships the materials? Which supplier?”
“He said they come in crates marked Adamson, but he doesn’t know if that’s the supplier or the shipping company.”
“Let’s find out. Chin, you do some digging on that end. Kono, do you need to take Spider some money?”
“I gave him a hundred,” Kono replied in tones that said he couldn’t imagine how Steve would want to pay him any more.
“Okay, then. You and Duke see if you can find confirmation of what Spider told you. I’d feel better if we hear it from a second source before we raid the docks.”
“Spider said Loco Aramis knows about it. He just doesn’t know where Aramis is hanging out these days.”
“See if you can find him,” Steve said.
“Will do, Steve,” Duke said as he followed Kono from the room.
Steve book up the receiver and buzzed Jenny’s telephone. “Jenny, call the harbormaster and find out when the Star of the Pacific is due to dock at Pier 39.”
Loco Aramis wasn’t hanging out anywhere. His body was found by rowers in the Ala Wai Canal, near Diamond Head. Steve went out to make a positive identification as the rescuers retrieved the body. Doc Bergman took one look at him and declared the cause of death as being a single bullet, which had entered Aramis’ skull through his forehead.
“Any idea whether he was killed before or after he went into the water?” Steve asked the medical examiner.
“Let me perform an autopsy, and I’ll be able to tell you, Steve,” Bergman replied with more than a tinge of anger in his voice.
“Sure thing, Doc. Just as soon as you can, though. We’re working on a tight time frame, this time.” Steve did not take the time or effort to explain that the Star of the Pacific was due at Pier 39 in less than six hours. He turned to Kono. “You go and find Spider Brown and take him to a safe house.”
Meanwhile, Dan Williams was established at the Kim Chou warehouse. Old Mr. Kim had been glad to pick up an extra worker for a few days and no pay. At Five-0’s request, he put Dan to work near the main entrance, logging inventory in and out of the warehouse and keeping an eye on the goings on next door.
Shortly before six o’clock that evening, Dan heard a tugboat whistle and looked out to see a large freighter being maneuvered into place against the dock. Large letters on the bow confirmed the fact that the ship was the Star of the Pacific. Dan depressed a button under the table where he was working. It sent a signal to the Five-0 office that the moment had arrived. Dan knew without hearing Steve say so that his job was to observe all goings on around the ship and Pier 39.
He was not alone. A half-dozen HPD officers were positioned in strategic places in order to track activities that Dan could not see from the Kim Chou warehouse. Within minutes, they were joined by Chin Ho, Kono, and Duke. Steve was not with them. Instead, he was in a legislative budget meeting at the state capitol. It was a long afternoon for the chief investigator.
Finally, as Steve looked at his watch for seemingly the nth time, the chairman of the Budget Committee looked at him.
“Is something wrong, Mr. McGarrett?” he asked.
“Five-0 and a number of HPD officers are in the middle of a surveillance action down by the docks.”
“Then, by all means, go and join your men.”
Steve arose. “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Suffice it to say, that is as close as we dare to streamline the Five-0 budget. It’s down to the bare bones.”
“I think we’ve all picked up on that fact, Mr. McGarrett.”
Steve all but dashed from the room. He did not stop until he reached his car, which was parked before the `Iolani Palace. Even as he stepped in behind the wheel, he turned the ignition. An instant later, the car leaped into action.
“Whaddaya got, Kono?” Steve asked as he joined Kono and Chin atop the Kim Chou warehouse.
“So far, a half-dozen crates marked Adamson have been taken from the ship and into the warehouse across the way,” Kono replied.
“Now, seven,” Chin added as yet another crate came into view.
“There’s no way to tell what they might contain, is there,” Steve remarked as he watched the unloading through a pair of binoculars.
“Not from what we’ve seen,” Chin affirmed.
“But they are going into the warehouse that Buck Moore manages,” Kono said. “So far, it looks like it’s gonna play out the way Spider said it would.”
“Good! Keep watching, gentlemen,” Steve said.
He handed the binoculars back to Chin, turned while keeping a low profile, and hurried back toward the stairs that would take him back into the Kim Chou warehouse. There, he found Dan pretending to be busy with paperwork as he kept a lookout from ground level.
“Any idea what the crates contain?” Steve asked him.
“No idea, at all, except that they are being into the warehouse Moore manages,” Dan reported. “Number eight just came off.”
“If they keep it up, there won’t just be enough supplies to frame the building, but to finish and furnish it, as well,” Duke said as he joined them.
Steve nodded in agreement as he glanced around at Duke. He said not a word as he turned and walked through the warehouse and exited through the rear. Getting into his car, he drove toward downtown Honolulu. Soon, he was seated across a large, but worn, desk and looking at the chief of the HPD.
“How can I help you, Steve?”
“We’ve got a big one going down, Chief.”
“At Pier 39, you mean?”
Steve set his jaw and nodded even as he swallowed. “If what our informant said is true, there’re gonna be a half-dozen or more trucks rolling in tonight to take the crates to a Ludwick Construction Company warehouse. I wanna let ‘em load up, follow them to their destination, and nab ‘em after they’ve placed the Adamson materials in the warehouse.”
“I’ve already got two men putting together a large detail for the mission, Steve.”
“Oh? Who briefed you?”
“You, Steve. You’ve been calling over here, requesting manpower, for three days, now. I asked questions. I put two and two together.”
Steve grinned. “You’re sharp, Chief.”
“That’s why the city sends me a paycheck every month. You run the show, Steve. Just let us know who and what you need.”
Steve drew out a map of Honolulu and spread it across the chief’s desk. “The red stars indicate the three Ludwick warehouses that we know about. There could be more.”
“Unmarked ones, you mean.”
The chief studied the map, then shook his head. “These are the ones we know.”
“Good!” Steve replied. “If we assume the trucks will be going from Pier 39 to one or more of these warehouses, we need to be prepared to tail and apprehend.”
“Okay,” Chief Dan said. “Let’s do it this way…”
The hours dragged by. To the men who were waiting and watching, it seemed as though they must have been sent out on a wild goose chase. To make it worse, a chill filled the air. It was January, and even in Hawai`i, the temperatures dip into the low- sixties at night. Besides, there was moisture in the air as a front began moving into the area. Numerous times, the officers pulled their light-weight jackets more securely around themselves.
Shortly before midnight, however, the dock began to come to life. A motor began to whir as a security gate opened. A semi rig and trailer came into view. It stopped before the warehouse at Pier 39. The driver and a passenger leaped from the cab and ran to the rear of the trailer. As they opened the doors, two more men leaped out. Over the next hour, they filled the trailer with the crates labeled Adamson, which had been unloaded from the Star of the Pacific that afternoon.
When the trailer was full, the two men who had leaped from it earlier climbed back into it. The driver and his passenger closed and secured the doors, then climbed back into the cab. The engine started, and the truck pulled away. Almost immediately, another rig and trailer appeared, and the loading process was repeated. The third trailer was only half-full when the warehouse was emptied of its last crate. Again, two men climbed into the trailer, the driver and his passenger closed and secured the doors, then climbed into the rig and drove off.
This time, a long, black Mercury crept out of the shadows and began tailing it. It was not alone. From parallel streets, the truck was kept under surveillance by the last four of a dozen unmarked patrol cars. One belonged to Five-0, while the other three belonged to the HPD.
The tail proved to be a lengthy one, which took the entourage far beyond the Honolulu city limits. After traversing the Nimitz Highway to the H-1, the caravan made its way to the H-2 and northwardly toward the North Shore. At Wahiawa, however, the truck slowed and turned onto an old cane road. The entourage continued to follow with lights dimmed and along parallel roads.
Nearly an hour after the journey began it ended at an old sugar mill. Once, it had been a thriving enterprise. Now, it was deserted, except for three tractor-trailer rigs, their twelve crew members, more than a hundred crates, and the boss of the operation. He was none other than Rick Handley, construction boss for Ludwick Construction Company.
“Gotcha!” Steve said under his breath as he took up the microphone of his police radio. “Attention, all units. Move in and apprehend. Repeat. Move in and apprehend.”
As police cars sped up from seemingly every direction, Steve took up his bull horn and stepped from his car. He and the Five-0 team strode up to the warehouse. The men inside seemed unaware of their impending arrival and began to offload crates from the last truck to arrive. McGarrett could not believe they were able simply to walk up, undetected. He took up the bull horn and began to speak.
“Handley, this is McGarrett, Five-0. You’re surrounded. All of you, put your hands on your heads and come out slowly.”
As had been expected, the men scattered in all directions. Five-0 and HPD officers dashed after them. Within a matter of minutes, all had been apprehended and led from the mill.
“Read ‘em their rights, gentlemen. Then, take ‘em downtown, and book ‘em,” Steve told the officers.
Danno approached then, propelling Rick Handley ahead of him. “He claims he has nothing to say, Steve.”
“Book ‘em, anyway, Danno.”
Even as he spoke, Steve stepped into his car and sped away. Less than an hour later, he and HPD officer Chick Young arrested Buck Moore at the warehouseman’s favorite pool hall on Hotel Street.
“You disappoint me, Buck. I thought you went straight after those ten years at Halawa Prison.”
“You said I have the right to remain silent. I choose to remain silent.”
“Good! Good! You do that, Moore, but be prepared to answer some tough questions when the district attorney gets you on the witness stand.” He turned to Chick. “Take him in and book ‘im, Chick.”
“Right now, Mr. McGarrett.”