THE FOX AND
THE HOUND
written by
gm and KS
When Malia waved at him through his
cubicle window, Dan Williams returned the gesture, pointing to the phone. He couldn’t break
the connection no matter how important her message. He was receiving instructions from the
Governor, in Steve’s stead, and even if the roof caved in on the Palace, he couldn’t hang up.
The new office manager, Malia had
been with Five-0 for several years as a secretary. When Jenny married, moved to
Malia scribbled something on a note
and Dan did the same, taking details from the Governor about the Pacific Rim
Conference starting in two days. Hosted
this year in
Even now, Steve McGarrett was at
the
Hanging up, Dan finished jotting
down some notes and looked up when there was a knock at the window. Malia leaned in with a slip of paper.
“Courtesy desk at
the airport.
Your aunt caught an earlier connecting flight
out of
“What?”
He barely glanced at the note. Of all the times for Aunt Clara to visit, it
had to be during an international conference.
Not exactly a crisis, but a hectic time. Ruefully, he asked himself when it wasn’t hectic around here.
The change in plan, though, would
give him a little more breathing room for today, he realized. If she was heading to his place, he did not
have to worry about picking her up at the airport. However, why didn’t
she just go straight to the Hawaiian Hilton, her favorite hotel?
Probably thought it more likely to
catch him at his condo. Typically, he always was so consumed with
work it was hard to spare time for her.
Just now, he didn’t have a free day until
Saturday. Aunt Clara – a veteran
thespian from way back – was a master at thinking on her feet and more than
capable of entertaining herself.
In fact, a few months ago when she
dropped in to
His phone rang and, still pondering
a mysterious tryst for his aunt, he answered it, expecting it to be her.
“Williams.”
“Danno,
there’s been a snag down here at the Ilikai.
How soon can you get here?”
A little jolted that it was the
boss and not Clara, Danny took a moment to readjust his thinking. “Uh, just a few minutes.” He glanced at the desk clock. “Maybe I can race out in time to miss the
quitting-time traffic.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh,
Steve, the Governor just called. We’ve
got two more aides coming in with the Aussies.”
“Great.” The sarcasm was as thick as a wave at
Pipeline. Dan smiled, silently amused as
McGarrett barked, “How many aides do politicians need?”
With anyone else, Dan would have
thought it was a joke. A spin on the old
line -- how many politicians does it take to screw in a light bulb? Knowing it was rhetorical ranting, Dan
assured he would be there at top speed.
Grabbing his jacked, he jogged out, calling to Malia on the run, telling
her if his aunt called, he would be getting in touch with her as soon as he
could.
õõõõõ
Entering the Ilikai was always a
pleasant experience. While the concrete
and steel jungle of
A doorman
in white with a bright red sash at his waist gave Dan a nod of recognition as
the detective passed through the revolving glass doors and on to the open
courtyard lobby. The conference center
was to the side, but Williams navigated around the massive reflecting pool and spotted his target out on the makai deck.
He
crossed over the bright tile of the bar lanai, relishing the soft, cooling ocean
breeze taking the edge off the tropical heat of late August.
Sweating under the intense,
Hawaiian sun, Dan turned into the wind.
Everything was so blue. The
beautiful blue of the
In a sober blue suit, absorbed in a
rapt conversation with the Ilikai security chief, Andrews, Steve McGarrett
presented a tense counterpoint to the tranquil setting.
Noting his
arrival, McGarrett waved Dan over.
As he closed the distance, Williams caught the scent of Steve’s strong
after shave as it blew toward him on the brine-edged Trade Winds. Joining his friend, he couldn’t see McGarrett’s blue eyes behind the sunglasses,
but he bet they were scrunched in stress, a residual effect of the strain
radiating from the head of Five-0 like the heat waves dancing off the sun-baked
tile of the courtyard. Greeting Andrews with a nod, Dan didn’t have
time to say more.
“Danno, the elevators on the Ewa
side of the hotel are under repairs.
Andrews has checked with the repair company and they’ve
promised the problem will be fixed before Friday. I want you to make sure we have an alternate
route for the delegates if that’s not finished.” He took Williams’ elbow and directed him
toward the railing, dismissing Andrews.
“Also, we need that security report finished on the caterers.”
“Duke’s
working on it,” he assured.
“And I
don’t have time to check the kitchen staff.
Can you do that tonight?”
“Only over dinner,” Williams
returned with a wry stipulation. “Aunt
Clara’s going to want to see something of us in the next forty-eight hours.”
McGarrett
grimaced. “I know we promised her dinner
tonight, Danno, but I don’t see how.”
Clara and the chief of Five-0 had
become good friends over the last several visits. At Christmas, they did some real
bonding. Dan fondly recalled their
escapades with last minute dinner and decorating. [Mele Kalikimaka –
fanfiction]
“We’ll book it here. Pull some strings,” he winked, only
half-kidding. “She’ll be disappointed if
you don’t show, Steve.”
Clearly not wanting to disappoint,
but realistic over the situation, McGarrett promised he would do his best. About to issue further instructions,
McGarrett was interrupted when a waiter at the bar
reported there was a phone call for him.
Reminding Dan to do the background check wikiwiki, he made for the
lobby.
Sighing, aware this personnel check
was necessary tedium, Williams went to the hotel offices. The security chief had already approved the
elevator people, but Dan double-checked that the repairmen
coming later today were the ones who always worked here. Security promised to do a visual check --
make sure the men were known to them -- and call
Five-0 if anyone was new to the repair team.
It was late in the afternoon and
only blocks from his apartment. Williams
decided to drive down and see his aunt before going back to the office. As usual,
At Queen’s Beach, he could see the
unobstructed scenery of the sand and surf and noted heavy clouds were moving in
over the ocean. They might have a decent
storm tonight. Maybe he should get Aunt
Clara checked into her hotel now. Then
when he and Steve returned to dine with her at the Ilikai, she could just walk
from the Hilton next door.
He parked in his slot in the
underground garage and walked into the lobby.
Mr. Turner, a neighbor down the hall on his ninth floor, was waiting for
the elevator. They chatted momentarily, and Dan mentioned his aunt was in town visiting
again. Turner, in his 60s and a retired
schoolteacher, visibly brightened at the news.
“I’ve been awaiting your charming
aunt,” he admitted. “Didn’t she tell you
we’ve been in correspondence?”
“No,”
the detective smiled.
Clara was a gregarious busybody and
probably knew the people in his apartment complex better than he did. While she didn’t
stay with him, she frequently dropped in and somehow managed to meet the most
incredible number of people. He
speculated with silent amusement that Mr. Turner might be the real reason Clara
had dropped in here unexpectedly. Then
why hadn’t they connected? It wasn’t like Aunt
Clara was shy in any way. Perhaps Turner
had been out this afternoon.
In the elevator ride up, he
pondered with amusement how many people Clara might have befriended on the
plane and what surprises she might greet him with this time. The first time she ever came, she made
friends with a man who was later murdered!
Her subsequent visits did not include adoptees with such alarming fates,
but she always managed to find someone.
As long as it wasn’t another blind date with a
tourist from
Fortunately, her later visits did
not include forays into detective work.
Last year she helped them in solving the case of her murdered
friend. Since then she pestered him relentlessly, and Steve a little less, to join in again in
an investigation. Happily, Five-0 was in
no need of elderly undercover operatives lately.
“Please tell her to drop in. After she’s settled of course,” Turner
called, stopping at his apartment.
How about that,
Dan tried to hide his smile.
Mr. Turner.
Another broken heart left on the trail after Aunt Clara.
“Did
she see the write up in the paper?”
Dan
stopped, fishing in his pocket for his keys.
“What?”
“I submitted an article about our
upcoming play. It’s
in Monday’s paper. I made sure they
named her prominently. And you, of
course, too.”
That wasn’t
good news. There were plenty of low-life’s in
Mr. Turner, reluctantly, drifted back
to his own apartment after the obvious disappointment of not being
invited down to Dan’s place.
The phone was ringing when he unlocked the dead bolt. “Aunt Clara?” he called when he stepped in, ignoring the phone momentarily.
No
response. Closing the door, he was perplexed
to see no luggage, no purse, no evidence his aunt was here.
He snatched
up the phone. “Williams.”
“Hello, Danny.
Do you recognize my voice?”
The deep tone of
a man.
In the simple question, there was a heavily shaded sinister threat. It was a familiar voice, but he couldn’t place it.
“Who is
this?”
“A ghost from your past, Danny.
Someone who owes you a
great deal. And I am going to get
paid back now.”
The message chilled him, but he
forced anger at the faceless threat to override nerves. “Who is this?” he barked out.
“The man who is
holding your Aunt Clara.”
He pressed his lips together to
trap the gasp that nearly escaped. This
could be a lunatic. There was no reason
to believe the claim, even though Clara was not here and her arrival had already been altered.
She had mysteriously caught an early flight from the mainland. Suddenly, that innocuous information chilled
him with dread.
“I
don’t believe you,” he countered, trying to buy time.
As he intently listened for any clue, he
scanned the condo -- kitchen, lanai, living room,
bedroom behind the Japanese screens -- no evidence that anyone new had been
here today. No
evidence of a break-in or a struggle.
Was this man lying? Was Clara
ever even here? What was true?
“Shall I describe her --“
“Let me
talk to her.”
“Not yet, Danny.
First,
you have prove your willingness to follow instructions. And let me assure if
you do not obey me to the letter, I will kill her. There will be no second chances. Do you understand?”
“Who
are you? Why should I believe you?”
“Still can’t recognize my voice? I’m an old friend,
Danny. We used to play tennis and drink
together and meet at the country club.
Why should you believe that I am perfectly capable of killing your
aunt? Because I killed
your girlfriend, Danny. I
murdered Jane Michaels.”
Dan
gasped. “Walter Gregson? You’re in prison!”
“Out on parole, Danny, and ready to take back
everything you robbed from me!”
A hundred questions flooded through
his mind: how had Walter been paroled after only a few
years in prison? Why wasn’t
Five-0 notified? Could that
happen? How had he nabbed Aunt Clara? What did he really want? The man had murdered Jane. Rage and hatred boiled inside, just as they
had when he had Walter at his mercy on the beach cliff at
Gregson -- someone he had known in
a social setting. Who knew personal
details about his life. Who was obviously dangerous and cunning. Gregson also
knew enough to trap him, set up this phone call and keep him off-balance.
He closed his eyes, sick with
revulsion and grief. A sliver of logic
warned him to think like a cop.
Establish proof, find weaknesses, and acquire evidence. Those sensible steps were
buried in the blinding panic that a murderer held his elderly aunt
hostage.
“If you
do anything to hurt her, I will kill you this time, Walter. No power on earth will save you!”
“Then you better do exactly what I tell you, Danny. Down to the last detail. Any variation and your aunt is finished.”
In his profession as a Five-0 cop,
he had been in many hostage negotiations.
Several times, he had been a hostage himself. Policy dictated no deals with criminals, but
that could not apply in this case. He
would not let anything happen to Aunt Clara.
Somehow, he would get Steve in on this and McGarrett would help. Somehow, they would save his aunt.
He
ground his jaws in frustrated rage.
“What do you want?”
“First, you call McGarrett.”
That
was a surprise, but Dan didn’t react. “Why?”
“You’re going to resign from Five-0.”
Sputtering
with incredulity, he snapped back, “You’re nuts, Walter!”
“Do you want to see your aunt again?”
“If you
do anything to her, you lose your leverage over me, Walter. You won’t do that.”
“Do you want to bet on that, Danny?”
Playing his only
bluff card had failed.
Walter had him cold. Even without proof that Clara was with
Walter, he could not act against the mad killer. Whatever convoluted plot the criminal had in
mind, he had to play along. For now. At some point,
he would turn the tables.
“I’m
not going to just resign from Five-0,” he countered waspishly. “That’s insane!”
“McGarrett is a
threat to my plan, Danny. Don’t you think I remember how you groveled at his
feet? You used to brag how he could
catch any criminal, Danny. Well he won’t catch me and neither will you. You have to keep him off your back. If he finds you, if he helps to search for
your aunt, if he interferes in any way Clara is dead. And if McGarrett
gets in my way he is dead, too, Danny.
Is that what you want?”
Throat tight with fear, Williams could hardly swallow. Kill Steve. Kill Aunt Clara. Walter could do it. He had murdered two innocent girls six years ago. For his wife's money! A memory-wave of anguish shot through his system, lucidly feeling again the sickening pain of Jane's murder.
Resign? He had done that once before to the shock of
his friend. It had hurt Steve
terribly. How could he do it again, even
to save Clara and Steve? He would. Because as rough as that might be, it was
better than harm coming to those he loved.
“He won’t believe me,” he croaked
in a final, die-hard attempt to sway the inevitable course of a terrible
event. “It will make him
suspicious. It would be better just to
leave him alone --“
“I said you resign!
I'm calling the shots here! You do what I say. And I want McGarrett
out of the way!”
Walter shouted, almost squeaking with deranged fury.
“Or
shall I kill her right now? Or maybe I should just have you kill McGarrett
for me?”
“No!”
“You resign. You
leave your gun at home. Then you walk
The commands were coming fast and confusing. What did Walter intend with a cat and mouse
game? Another car? Mysterious messages in a cemetery. The man was insane! Cunning. Crazy like a fox, madness.
“Clear?”
“All right!”
There followed more threats.
Don’t divulge anything to McGarrett. The apartment was bugged. Walter would know if he leaked anything to
the Five-0 boss. He was watching. If Dan made an attempt
to contact anyone, Clara was dead. And maybe the people Dan contacted. Maybe even Dan.
Walter hung up and for a moment, Dan was
frozen with immobile shock. It
was all so incredible! Ten minutes. Not much time. The cemetery -- where in the cemetery? He glanced at his watch. So little time. How could he plan anything?
Unable to believe the sweeping menace, he could not deny the
threats. The two people he loved most
were at risk if he did not go along with the insane game. If Walter was lying then everything was all
right. He would be the one in danger,
but he could handle that. Something
happening to Clara or Steve -- no -- he couldn’t
gamble with their safety.
He checked the phone, inside and out, and found no bugging
device. Walter could be down on the
street eavesdropping with a listening receiver.
There could be bugs anywhere in the apartment. He didn’t have time
to look. He just had to obey the insane
instructions.
Automatically he started to follow through with the
orders. Not thinking of feelings or
pain, he dialed Steve’s private office number.
With a detached sense of unreality, he listened as the rings echoed in
his ear . . . .
“McGarrett.”
Curt, hurried, the boss’ bark
made Dan jump.
Heart in his throat, pulse pounding, he felt ill and weak
and like the worst traitor in the world.
What he was about to do -- he would rather slit his wrists. Except his aunt depended on
him. So many times, he had vowed
to himself he would do anything for Steve, but it seemed repeatedly he failed
in that promise. Failed to live up to
everything Steve needed in his second-in-command.
“Hello. Hello? Who is this?”
Impatient.
Harried. Steve at his usual
breathless work-pace at the office.
How could he resign? How could he
ruin his life and hurt his closest friend?
Alienate the person he needed most in his corner right now -- always.
“Hello, is someone there?”
The familiar and usually heartening voice now filled him
with heartsick grief. Closing his eyes
against the emotional pain, he pushed away thoughts of the past -- the future
-- the reactions on the other end of the line.
He thought only of his elderly aunt and the peril she was in now. He was her lifeline and he could not fail in
this.
He drew in a huge, deep breath. “Steve, I don’t have time to explain
everything.” In his
own ears, the tone was weak, the voice shaking. He cleared his throat, eyes closed tight
against the pain. “I am quitting. I can’t be part of
the team anymore. I’m
sorry. Don’t
look for me. Don’t
ask questions. I’m
so sorry, Steve. Just accept this. Please.
Sorry. Aloha.”
He hung up and breathed again, catching a sob in his throat,
opening his eyes and staring out at the ocean view beyond his lanai doors. Coward that he was, he did not even let his
friend reply or comment or say anything. It was better this way. Still uncertain, he wondered if this was all
just a horrible trick -- Walter could be
calling from prison -- he didn’t have time to find
out. He couldn’t
risk any delay or misstep that would endanger Clara. If this was all a sick joke then he had just
buried himself.
Had Walter heard it all?
No way to prove or disprove the surveillance threats. He just had to act as if Walter was telling
the truth. Considering Gregson’s bloody and merciless past, he felt -- despite all
the pain he was causing Steve -- this was the best course of action.
Depositing his .38 and holster in his bed stand table, he
strapped his .22 to his ankle. It was a
risk, but Walter might not check for a second gun. The unknown territory he was entering -- he
felt better with a weapon.
As a last, desperate edge, he left a note for Steve. He knew his friend would end up here. After that terrible phone call, McGarrett was
not going to let this drop. He knew his
friend that well. Maybe the cryptic
message would help him to understand the desperation, but not reveal any clues. No, he couldn’t pour
out his anguished soul to McGarrett.
What if Walter came here and checked for hidden evidence? Aunt Clara would be dead. Maybe Steve. He couldn’t risk
it. Frustrated and torn up with fury, he
slammed his fist on the kitchen counter.
He wanted to scream at the agony of the trap!
Checking his watch, he knew he was running too thin on
time. He rushed out, and at the street
jogged down the narrow residential road that Kalakaua turned into while main
traffic curved mauka to connect with Diamond Head Road. The street dead-ended against Diamond Head at
Poni Moi Road, and there was a blue Chevy Malibu. Checking under the old convertible’s floor
mat, he found the key. Before starting
the car, though, he checked the trunk -- usual stuff there -- and glove box
with the registration of someone in
õõõõõ
Steve McGarrett stayed still, holding the phone, for long
moments. Shocked beyond comprehension,
he stood his ground for a time before the annoying buzz of a
disconnect echoed in his ears.
Danno had just resigned.
Numb, he fell back in his chair and stared at the phone as
if it was the cause of his turmoil. What
had just happened? It would have been
more comprehensible and less painful if he had been struck
with a lightning bolt! With that thought came the awareness that his astonished
incredulity was edged with a piercing hurt.
Resentment built quickly, almost instantly escalating to hot anger.
Danno had done this before --
resigned -- betrayed -- how could he?
Taking a deep breath, feeling chilled and ill; completely
blindsided, Steve slammed
down on the scathing condemnation.
Without emotionally flinching any more, he could look back on the
incident of Dan’s publicly humiliating resignation {episode -- PIG IN A BLANKET}
with a degree of compassion and even sympathy.
Danno -- loyal and passionate -- had over-reacted to an extreme
situation. The circumstances had been
brutal. And,
the apologies sincere, profuse and overwhelming afterwards.
There was no such crisis upon them now. So why -- how -- could this happen out of the
blue? Okay, he exhaled slowly -- getting
a firmer grip on his own turbulent emotions -- pushing aside the personal
resentment and injured ego --starting to think like a cop again. There was a reason for this. Motive.
Five-0 was all tied up with the
security for the conference. Other cases
had been pushed onto HPD support personnel until the
conference was over. No
indication from the current activities that would cause this sudden aberrant
behavior from his second-in-command.
Feeling a little more grounded and in control, he continued the mental ratiocination. Remembering Danno’s voice, his friend had sounded thready and strained, very upset -- highly emotional. Something was terribly wrong. Had he been speaking under coercion? That seemed the only possible answer, but how? Again, why?
The deductive-reasoning process gave Steve a sense of stability -- that he had
constructed a logical/ probable scenario. It also
shot a shiver of fear along his spine.
Then who was forcing Danno to make such a call? Worse, what were they doing to Williams to
push him into such an act? Harming him? Threatening him? What
could they hold over his closest friend that would constrain him to resign?
Snapping the rotary as he brutally dialed the phone, he
called Dan’s home number. No response. He
switched over to HPD dispatch and ordered that Williams be
called on the car radio. No answer. Centered
now with routine activity, but nerves stinging with anxiety, he launched from
the chair and stalked to the secretary’s desk in the outer office.
“Malia, what happened today with
Danno?”
The harsh, nearly shouted command startled the young woman and she caught her breath, eyes wide with surprise. Steve ignored the reaction and repeated the question. Slowly, Malia recounted what she could recall of Williams’ activities.
“He had a meeting with a government liaison at the conference center. I don’t remember the
name of the man. Dan made a lot of phone calls.
Lunch was brought in and he was at his desk
most of the day. Then he met with you at
the Ilikai.” She was thumbing through
memos. “Oh, on the negative side, he
didn’t go out to the airport.”
Steve was puzzled. “The airport? Security there is being handled by Duke.”
Malia’s face scrunched into an exasperated expression that
told him he had missed something painfully obvious and even embarrassing. “Not everything is business, Steve,” she
sighed with a shake of her head. “His
Aunt Clara caught an earlier flight from the mainland and the airline called to
let him know not to come to the airport.
She was going to meet him at his place.”
Clara. Airport. How could he
forget? Because this
kind of personal crisis had a way of washing every other consideration out of
his focus. As he pondered the
information, his sixth sense whispered something was wrong. He didn’t know what,
exactly.
“Is Duke still at the airport?”
“I think so.”
“Get him on the phone for me,
please.”
Now energized with a direction, a possible angle, Steve
returned to his office and paced. Clara arriving early.
The airport pick-up cancelled.
The call -- He stopped. Why would
an airline call to deliver a message about a passenger? Why didn’t Clara
call herself? And
why go to Danno’s apartment? Clara,
allowed to be quirky and have her own way at her age,
always insisted on staying at the Hilton Hawaiian in
The intercom buzzed and Steve snatched up the phone. He instructed Duke to check the United
Airlines terminal for anyone who might have spotted Clara. Not sure how to word this without being melodramatic
or jumping to conclusions, he appreciated that his
detectives needed to know there was something very wrong with their colleague.
“Danno’s in some kind of trouble, Duke. I don’t understand
it all, yet, but I will. It might have
something to do with his Aunt Clara. I
want to know exactly what flight she came in on, if she was met by anyone and
anything else that might be pertinent.”
Practically throwing the phone down he jogged out, pausing
only to order Malia to call the Hilton and find out if Clara was there. On the run again, he yelled over his shoulder
that he would be at Danno’s. Racing to his car, he slammed the big Mercury
into gear and screeched out of the parking slot. All the time, his actions
on automatic, his mind working feverishly to mull over the problem.
Traffic was not too bad -- he had missed the quitting-time
crush leaving downtown. Speeding along
Nimitz to Ala Moana, then to Kuhio to avoid the heavy congestion on Kalakaua,
he had time to think through his actions.
He did not call for back-up. Why? It would be the smart thing to do. Something was terribly amiss with his
second-in-command and possibly Aunt Clara.
Shouldn’t he call in the troops? Instincts told him that would be a bad idea,
and he didn’t know why.
Coursing through the back of Waikiki, he came up on Kalakaua
beyond the main beach attractions and along Kapiolani Park. There were plenty of people still on the
beach, although errant drops of rain were splattering the area. The dark clouds were moving in fast. Already the landscape of sand and surf and
high-rises was dappled with ominous clouds.
There would be a heavy storm tonight.
Not unusual, but it would keep the tourists
inside at the bars and cause more problems for HPD by morning, he assessed
automatically.
The slots in front of Williams’ building were
all filled. Most residents were
home from work now. Parking illegally in
a red zone in front of the apartment, he first dashed to the underground
garage. Both of Williams’ cars -- the
Five-0 LTD and the white Mustang -- were there and they looked normal. No signs of -- of anything unusual -- he
mentally detailed. What was he
expecting, a blood trail? A body? The hood of
the black LTD was faintly warm. It had been parked for only a little while.
Shivering at the gruesome possibilities he may yet
encounter, he dashed from the garage and to the elevators, impatiently pacing
until the doors opened on the ninth floor.
Jogging to the end apartment overlooking the ocean, he raised a fist to
knock, then quickly slipped to the side and tapped the door with his
knuckles. Not knowing what to expect, he
held his breath and listened.
No sound came from inside.
Knocking two more times elicited no reply. Drawing his revolver, he carefully tried the
knob. Locked. He slipped his key in and heard the click, then silently turning the knob, he quickly dashed in, weapon
ready.
The apartment was eerily quiet. It felt empty. Quickly scanning the rooms, he finally
holstered his revolver and stopped when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. Most devastating of all, atop the piece of
paper -- there was the Five-0 gold shield in its leather case. The badge that signified
Williams’ status as his detective.
It had been left behind for Steve to find. A painful symbol that this
enigmatic episode was no joke, but a somber and distressing reality.
Hands shaking with resentment and
emotions he couldn't even define, he
picked up the note.
STEVE --
PLEASE STAY
AWAY
FROM ME FOR
YOUR OWN GOOD.
SO SORRY --
D
Sorry. Again, the
flash of fury blurred everything red, sizzling his
emotional response to the crisis; considering this a personal attack. Stay away from him for his own good! What did Danno think he was doing? Burning with bitter offense at the
melodramatic and imperious order, McGarrett fumed.
Taking a breath, he calmed his wounded ego, reminding there were hidden
forces manipulating events. He didn’t know what those were yet, so he had to give Danno the
benefit of the doubt. While this
resignation hurt deeply, more than he wanted to admit, he knew there was
provocation. Something incredibly
important and desperate had happened to his friend in the last hour.
The warning for his safety, of course, was pure Danno. Losing the irritation, he was sobered at the
obvious message -- and the under lying subtext of the note. Danno was in a real fix and perceived some
kind of -- real or imagined -- threat against McGarrett. Why? What had happened? Whatever it was, it was enough to drive his
friend beyond the brink of reason and beyond normal conduct.
The vision of Aunt Clara edged into his thoughts and he
acknowledged that she seemed the most likely source of motive for this. He didn’t understand
how or why or what. He did know that
there were very few things in this world that would make Dan Williams betray
him. And the
sudden resignation WAS a personal betrayal -- Steve could look on it in no
other fashion.
Taking a few minutes to make a more detailed search of the condo, he deduced Clara had not been here. No evidence that Danno had
been here except for the note.
Everything was neat according to Williams’ routine. McGarrett made it a policy -- one of many
traits that Danno emulated -- to leave his own apartment cleaned up in the
morning since he never knew how long he’d be away or
how tired he’d be when he came home.
Checking the bedroom, he realized the lack of a tan suit --
the one Danno was wearing today. So, he had not changed.
Steve also noted the empty holster on the nightstand. Unlocking the top drawer, he saw the police
.38 was there, but not Dan’s spare .22.
Snapping his fingers, he paced back to the living room and
looked around, trying to discern more clues, but coming up empty. He called the office. No word from Danno. Clara never checked in and never cancelled
her reservation at the Hilton. Then
Malia patched him through to Duke.
The detective had learned Clara -- easily identified because
she always made such an impression -- came in on her originally planned flight this
afternoon. No one from the United courtesy desk called Five-0. While waiting at the arrival gate, Clara made a big deal about being met by her nephew.
He always brought her an orchid lei. Three employees at the arrival counter
witnessed Clara met by a thin, tall, mustached man. He wore a sports jacket and dark
trousers. He brought no lei. He helped her with her carry-on and escorted
an obviously disappointed Clara away.
At the departure level, a tour group coordinator remembered Clara and her escort claiming luggage.
He remembered her because she stopped him and asked if she could have
one of the leis in his hand. She was
such a nice and gabby old lady he gave her a red
carnation lei. Her escort, who seemed
anxious and unusually nervous for a tourist arriving in Hawaii, kept
encouraging her to stop visiting and move along.
Duke questioned him -- what made
him think the guy was a tourist and not a local?
The guy was a tourist because he
was so pale. He remembered the two drove
off in a small car that didn’t seem fitting for such a
nice old lady.
“Did you get a decent
description of this mystery man?”
“Yeah.
Haole, tall, thin,
like I said, pale. Thin
darkish hair. Spoke polite and
cultured, like he was upper class. The
tour coordinator thought he was too polite to be a cop,” Duke reported with a
slightly sour tone.
Mystified, Steve thanked Duke and told him to get back to
the Palace. Pacing again, he thought
through the strange evidence. Conclusions so far?
Clara had been tricked into going with a bogus
escort. Kidnapped. Why? Danno had no money to speak of. Clara did, but
why would someone nab her here -- why not when she was
at home? Because her
nephew was here. So the motive had something to do with Danno.
It was a start, but a depressing,
unsettling one that filled him with more anxiety.
Someone, for some
reason, was manipulating Danno -- coercing him into resigning for some
reason. That thought actually lightened
his heart momentarily in a purely selfish response.
The resignation was not personal.
Of course, it never would be, but in the back of his mind, he must have
been worried about that.
Far more troublesome, though, there was some nefarious plot
afoot that was both dangerous and horrible.
Kidnapping an elderly lady to get to his friend
was monstrous. Who would do such a
thing? Someone who knew Danno, knew how
much Clara meant to him? Personal, maybe? Revenge? If so, that
would make this so much harder. Five-0
detectives ran afoul of so many evil miscreants.
How could they narrow it down? Maybe this ploy was something to throw off
Danno and conference security? Possible. Danno was
in charge of double-checking the security at the Ilikai. Chin was doing transportation. Duke the airport. Steve would have HPD focus in on security and
he would go over details at the office.
Well, they had a start.
The pale escort with the mustache. Pale. Mainland? Prison? That would be
his next step. He would call a meeting
of Chin and Duke at the Palace and fill them in, let them know they were
probably dealing with a kidnapping of Aunt Clara. The ransom -- forcing Danno
into something -- some act or deed contrary to his nature. He didn’t have all
the details worked out, yet, but he knew his friend well enough to put together
a pretty accurate supposition.
They would drop the irrelevant details about the conference
and go full throttle on this kidnapping.
No matter what the motive, he kept at the forefront of his mind the
personal impact here. A dear old lady was at risk. His
best friend was threatened. He would not
allow this unseen danger to harm two people very important to him.
õõõõõ
Overcast and sprinkling with the precursor of more to come,
Dan coursed around the gravestones, ignoring the gentle drops showering his
face. Normally not affected by visits to
cemeteries, now he was tense and keyed up with anxiety. What would he find here? A body? In a macabre way that might fit his
tormentor, but he didn’t think so. Walter had other, deeper, hate-filled motives
in mind.
This was way beyond just kidnapping his aunt. In the short time he had traveled from the
apartment to the graveyard, he tried to sort it all out. He couldn’t. Not enough evidence. And the worry about
Clara’s safety kept intruding. The anger
of how Walter was using him -- using Clara to get at him -- clouded his
judgment. And
the horrible betrayal he had been forced to perpetrate against Steve stuck with
him as an underlying pain; as certainly as the strong Hawaiian sun dominated
the
Steve. It would
probably not take him long to figure things out. Then what? If Steve became involved, it could mean his
and Clara’s deaths. So,
in a cosmic balancing act, Dan had to maintain the equilibrium of two opposing
forces: Aunt Clara’s safety and
McGarrett’s legendary and tenacious curiosity.
No, more than curious -- his passion for justice. Steve would be going nuts over this. He would never let it go, no matter how Dan
tried to persuade him. So, Dan had to stay ahead of the best detective in the
Pausing by a striking white statue, he ignored the pelting,
warm rain
and surveyed the landscape. Walter had
given no specific instructions. Where
was he supposed to go? His eyes
automatically came to rest on a section of lawn on the other side of a narrow
road. It was an older section. Long-time local -- rich -- families had
ornate and elaborate headstones and statues over there. It was an area he didn’t
visit much. Not
for a long time. That was where
Jane was buried.
With a chill, he knew that was where he could find Walter’s
message. Walking rapidly, then breaking into a run, he dashed through the rain, jogging
past headstones, until he found the Michaels’ family tombstone. It was a massive cement structure with the
names of grandparents, the father, and Jane.
Running around to the front altar-like marker, he was
appalled to see the stone had been smeared with red
spray paint. Over the name of his former
girlfriend, were simple words. The power
of the defacing crime, though, was staggering to him and he felt like he had been hit in the chest by a physical blow.
“Walter!” he screamed out!
Fists clenched he looked around the cemetery, searching for
the target of his rage. The rain
increased in intensity, heavy, large drops assailing him, soaking quickly into
his suit. How could the monster defile
the grave like this? Pounding on the
cold slab of stone, he sank to his knees, hitting the marker with his fists.
The desecration surfaced all kinds of long-hidden emotions
he had forgotten - or buried. The incompleteness of his relationship with Jane. The fondness he felt for her that had been abruptly severed.
The lasting regret that he never found out how much he really loved her or how far their relationship could have developed. He wasn’t convinced
they would have married -- their affection tempered by the reality that they
lived in vastly different worlds. He felt something for her -- deep and unfulfilled. Her vicious murder
had such a lasting impact it prevented him from getting close
enough to any other girl all these years to think about marriage.
Years ago, Walter Gregson had murdered Jane Michaels and
another girl in an attempt to make the next victim -- his wife -- look like
part of a serial killing spree. It had
all been for money. When Dan saw Jane’s lifeless, strangled body on the floor of the Makaha Country
Club, Dan had been devastated. The
following days had been a blur of hatred and hurt. He had instigated uncharacteristic, angry
actions in revenge for her death. In the
end, when he captured Walter, he wanted to kill him. Some anchoring trace of civilization kept him
from stepping over the line to barbarism.
It had stopped him from murdering someone who richly deserved instant
death at his hands. Now, staring at the
red paint marring Jane’s gravestone, the old anger returned. The passion for violence and vengeance
exploded inside. Maybe this time, he
would not restrain the desire to kill Walter.
But he would have to find him first.
Again, Dan read the words issuing the next ultimatum. He felt like a puppet on a string. There was, however, no choice. He had to dance to Walter’s tune until he
found Clara. Angry at the despoiling of
the tomb, at his own helplessness, he tried to rub away the paint. It was already dried, and he finally gave up,
tiredly pushing to his feet in an unsteady stance, staring that the tombstone.
Find Sally
Sally Gregson, now returned to
using her maiden name,
Last
he heard, Sally had closed up the big family estate in Kahala and was living
somewhere else. His police contacts
would make it easy to trace her. Except he had just resigned. He was no longer a cop. But few would know
that. The resignation was hardly
something Steve would broadcast.
Jogging through the soppy cemetery, he conceded it was probably raining heavy enough to put the top up on the car. Not something he did with his Mustang. After all, owning a convertible in Hawaii -- one of the greatest pleasures of freedom was driving with the top down in a tropical rain storm. Today, he was not in the mood for the exhilarating mode of travel. And right now this storm was getting uncomfortably intense.
The Chevy had an electric top and after a few tries
he realized it was not working. It led
him to wonder, as he cruised through the cemetery, where Walter got the
car. Well, if Walter wanted him to be
anonymous, it wasn’t going to help to have him driving
around in the rain with the top down.
Sure, he did that a lot in the Mustang, but not in a downpour like this.
Disturbed that he would attract unwanted attention, he
turned onto Diamond Head Road, automatically heading for Kahala. Dan had to keep one step
ahead of McGarrett, and not leave a trail for Steve to follow. How was he going to manage?
Traffic coming south was heavy -- people returning to
Waikiki and Honolulu after a day at the windward beaches. He soon turned off to the less traveled
Kalaha Avenue, a street he knew well. He
had grown up in this area. His uncle had
rented a small place from the Kulanis just up the road.
Turning onto Black Point, he cruised to one of the houses
with wide lots on the expensive beach property. The old house did look closed. Parking just down the street, he walked to
the yard, through a low wrought iron gate, to the double front doors. Knocking several times, he took the lava
stone path to the back.
Walter probably would have tried Sally’s place already --
maybe not, he reevaluated. Walter would be known by neighbors and staff at the big house. Was that why he needed Dan -- to be his eyes
and legs and hunt down Sally for him. To kill her?
Walter harbored enough hate to want Sally dead. And him, too. Dan sensed, however, something deeper and
more sinister. This was too elaborate
for just revenge killings. Money? That would be
typical. He had murdered Jane for money.
The gardens and lawns were still in perfect order. The pool pristine and sparkling, the blue
water rippling in moving circles as the rain bombarded the surface. Knocking on a glass door at the back, there
was no response. He did note, however,
the lock on the sliding door was broken.
So, Walter had been here already. And found
nothing? Then why send him here?
Working on instinct, he entered the house. It was a spacious place with lots of glass on
this side, overlooking the million-dollar-plus view of the private beach. Memory of the lay-out
filtered back in and he made his way to the study. Sure enough, it looked like someone had
trashed the place.
The phone rang and he jumped. By the second ring, he regained his breath
and realized it must be Walter. Angry,
he snatched it up in the middle of the third ring.
“Yes?”
“So, you know how to follow clues, Danny. That’s good. For your aunt.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“Not yet. You still have to prove you’re
worth something to me. If you’re not, then neither is your aunt.”
Livid, the anxiety for Clara could no longer restrain the
bubbling emotions of hatred for the fiend on the other end of the line. “Leave her alone, you monster! How could you do that to Jane’s grave?”
“To remind you what
I’m capable of doing, Danny,” came the
vicious reply. “So you better do exactly what I say or what happened to poor little
Jane can happen to your aunt! Are you
ready to cooperate? Convince me that you
are ready for your next instructions, Danny.”
Shaking with rage, he struggled with control of his voice,
of his temper. Hating what Walter had
done to Jane’s grave, he knew it was impractical to dwell on the minor
crime. He could blow the whole set up
right now if he wasn’t very careful. Reminding himself
that two precious lives were on the line here -- and he was the only one
keeping them safe -- he took a breath, convincing himself to cooperate. Everything he did right was one step closer to finding Clara and ending this
nightmare. As despicable as it was to be controlled by Walter, there was no choice. For now.
“What do you want?”
“You’re a detective, can’t you figure that out you idiot?”
“Sally. Okay.
Why didn’t you just come out of prison and get a phone book!”
“Do you think it’s going to be so funny when I retaliate on
this little old lady --“
“Don’t you touch her, Walter!”
“Then listen up,
Danny. You find Sally. But first, you’ll
find a bank book in the safe. Take it to the Kahala branch of the Bank of
“I can’t do that!”
“You can and you
will! In the safe is a manila
envelope. It gives you power of attorney
over Sally’s financial holdings --“
“Are you nuts!”
“Read the letter,
Danny. Get out the money! Follow the instructions completely, to the
letter, or this is the end of the line for your aunt!”
The phone went dead and Williams stewed for a moment,
frustrated at the predicament. Contrary
to all negotiations, he was playing along without proof the victim was still
alive. He had no choice. This was not like any other Five-0 case. This was Aunt Clara in danger. What if she was already dead and he went
along with the plans -- playing Walter’s game like a puppet? Well, if he hurt Clara at all, Walter was
already dead. If Dan had to give up his
life to exact the necessary justice, Walter was already dead for this.
Stepping to the wall safe that was slightly open, he found
the envelope. Inside was a document,
supposedly sighed by Sally, designating Dan as her legal representative to
withdraw -- two million in a bank check!
Was Walter nuts? Obviously still
a master forger -- he had forged checks of Sally’s when they were married. So why didn’t Walter
just do all of this today and skip to
The revenge?
He wanted Dan to
find Sally. So
Gregson couldn’t. Then
what? Murder
them all? That would be the only
way out.
Reading on, Dan nearly choked when he learned he was to go
to -- Hanauma Bay. Where Walter had been apprehended.
What then?
Hand over the money? Find Aunt Clara’s body?
Groaning, he stared out the rear doors and at the grey
columns of rain streaming from the dark clouds over Kahala. He wanted so badly to call Steve, to ask for
help. His hand still on the phone, he restrained
the desire. So much
he needed Steve’s clarity of logic and more, the stalwart support he could
always count on in any crisis.
Not any more.
Thanks to Walter he had burned bridges he might never be able to
repair. Steve might
forgive him, but maybe not. Resigning again had
to have hurt Steve terribly. Now the added
charges accumulating might prevent him from wanting Dan back on the team. So far, Dan was driving a possibly stolen
car. It looked like he was a party to
breaking and entering and vandalism. Now embezzlement.
Because he would take the fall, not Walter -- all the evidence would
point to him. Then what -- find
Sally? Kidnap her and then they would all be murdered?
How was he going to prove his coercion to the crimes? Only if Aunt Clara lived. And that wouldn’t
happen if he didn’t cooperate. He had to
have a plan! A back up
ploy to ensure their safety. What? If only Steve
was here, he would know what to do. Once
more staring at the phone, longing to call for help, he walked back to the rear
lanai and in the drenching rain made his way back to the now soppy Malibu.
Wondering if Walter was following him, or keeping tabs in
some way, he thought about searching the car for a homing device. Walter had called him at Sally’s house. But was that a lucky
guess or surveillance? For all he knew
Walter was just playing him for a fool, and he had
been a sucker to give in, but he couldn’t risk any resistance. As long as Clara was captive, he would play
out any game he needed to and deal with Gregson when they met face to face.
õõõõõ
Finally deciding an APB was the only option, McGarrett
issued an order for all units to locate, but not detain Williams. It was an unusual order, but if he could get
a trace on Danno maybe he could catch up to him and
get some answers.
The low, dark clouds obscured the brilliant colors of the
vibrant, on-coming Hawaiian twilight.
When McGarrett dashed into the Palace from the driving rain, he jogged
up the stairs to his office, thinking out his next move.
The secretaries had gone home, but Chin and Duke were both
there. Succinctly, he outlined the weird
happenings of the afternoon and offered his theory on the motivations. He guessed that Clara Williams had been kidnapped and Dan was dealing with the situation
all by himself. Why? Probably under threat of
the kidnapper. What the criminals
wanted was still unclear.
Steve’s motives were completely obvious. First, he wanted to find Danno and help
him. Then, find Clara. The phone rang, not his private line, he saw
from the flashing light, and asked Duke to answer it. He continued to discuss the situation with
Chin. When a perplexed Lukela hung up,
his expression caught the boss’ attention.
“APB on Danny. Charlie Kiule and
Donny Chow just spotted Danny.” He
looked at Chin and back at McGarrett, as if not sure how to report the strange
message. “Danny was driving an old blue
convertible with the top down in the pouring rain! Easy to remember. Wonder why he’s so conspicuous if he doesn’t
want anyone to find him?”
Chin smirked. “Donny’s probably wondering what Danny did
with the Mustang.”
Chow was a known car aficionado. He and Williams frequently engaged in
friendly sparring matches about cars.
Chow had a standing offer to buy Williams’ Mustang. To McGarrett, he snagged on the more
important relevance. They had Danno
fixed in a different car. And a location.
“Where?”
“Out on
The implication sounded ominous, but McGarrett couldn’t dwell on the symbolism. “Why didn’t they tail him?”
“It was before they heard the
APB.”
McGarrett was already heading for
the door. “Come on.”
õõõõõ
This branch of the Bank of Hawaii was open late on Wednesday
because of a promotional tie-in with the nearby Kahala Mall. Arriving well before closing, Williams
presented his letter of recommendation to an assistant manager who did not know
him. The manager, Thomas Tanaka knew
both McGarrett and Williams, so this was a lucky break. Tanaka might get suspicious, but the
assistant wouldn’t.
Hoping his nervousness didn’t show,
he presented his papers and waited. He
must have looked a terrible sight -- light suit dark with spots and strips of
damp from the rain. Hair
sodden. He was lucky they didn’t call for a cop!
Unfortunately, the assistant would not handle this herself. She needed the manager’s approval. Dan would have to come back at closing.
Outside, he stood under the overhang of the unique, circular
building. Relieved this extortion did
not work, he was disturbed that he had no ransom. The severity of his crime was just sinking
in, also. Fear for Clara’s safety had
insulated him so far from bleeding too much about consequences. Now, he couldn’t
keep the guilt from pounding at his conscience.
He was betraying Steve, breaking laws, going against his
morals and the things he stood for as a cop and person. This was going to catch up to him at some
point and it would be bad. No matter how
he looked at it, this was a horrible mess.
Hesitant, not wanting to go on, but knowing he must, he stepped out into
the rain again, heading for the car he was learning to loath. Why couldn’t Walter
have let him bring the Mustang?
He had to meet Walter at Hanauma without the money. He couldn’t afford
to hang out at the bank, or go strolling around the mall until closing. The plan was not working. He would explain it to Walter, see Clara in
person, and they could move on to another plan.
õõõõõ
Gloomy, rainy and humid.
It seemed fitting
weather for the strange errand of visiting a cemetery. No sign of the blue
convertible, so Williams must have already left! Sourly, Steve retrieved umbrellas from the
trunk and distributed them to his guys. He suggested they fan out, find a grounds keeper and see if anyone had spotted Williams and then
discover why Danno had been here.
Old friends and colleagues were buried
here. He didn’t
bother to visit the grave sites. His
attention was focused on a pressing and urgent
case. Chin waving to him drew his
attention and he briskly walked over to a well-kept section of the
cemetery. Elaborate and costly monuments
marked dynasties of old family plots.
“The keeper wonders if we’re here
because of the vandalism.”
McGarrett dismissed it instantly. “No.
Did you give him Danno’s description?”
He zeroed in on the thin Japanese gentleman and
wondered if there would be a language barrier.
The man proved that incorrect when he adamantly shook his
head. “Somebody should do
something. This is wrong.” He pointed to the far corner of the
cemetery. “The young man was very
upset.”
McGarrett grabbed the worker by
the arm. “What young man?”
“He was here, not long ago. At the grave. Very upset.
Falling down upset.”
Steve’s tone was hard and
intent. “Falling down? Was he hurt?”
“Maybe,” the man shrugged uncertainly. “Hurt inside for sure. Seen a lot of that here. Fell against the big tomb.”
“What did he look like?”
The intensity and urgency startled the man, who took a step
back from the imposing and intimidating chief of Five-0.
“Young man.
Curly,
light, hair. Haole. Stood in the rain, didn’t
care if he was soaking wet. Upset. Pounded on the gravestone. Yelled, but I couldn’t hear the words.”
Cringing, Steve urged the man to show them the vandalism,
his nerves tight with disturbance. Danno
had been here. Very
unsettled. What was it? Not a body. Thankfully.
The man walked them over to study the scene of the
crime. The red paint was a glaring
insult to the somber setting. Despite
the lack of respect for the dead, the message snagged at his thoughts.
“Find Sally,” he whispered.
Scrawled across the name of Jane Michaels.
It hit him at the
same instant Chin made the connection.
They looked at each other in shock.
The macabre message and marring paint was disgusting and disturbing.
“Jane,” he said quietly. “Danno’s old girlfriend.”
“And Sally?”
“Walter
Gregson’s wife.”
Tearing out at a run, McGarrett raced back to his car, not
bothering about the umbrella or the rain.
Leaping into the seat, he grabbed the mic and asked for
HPD to run an address check on Sally Gregson.
Jane. It had been a long time since he had thought of Danno’s
murdered girlfriend. Wiping drops of
rain from his face reminded him of the anguished tears shed for Miss
Michaels. So clearly, he remembered the
utterly agonizing ordeal when Danno had walked in on the crime scene and
observed the girl he loved dead. Steve
audibly groaned recalling the horrible moments of running after the
grief-stricken Williams and holding onto his weeping friend as Danno trembled
with uncontrollable sobs. The subsequent
and necessary actions of getting Williams home and watching his friend struggle
to reset to a normal appearance when he was devastated inside,
were still a painful memory.
The following days of the difficult investigation when
Williams nearly killed a suspect -- the contrite apologies and the
resignation . . . .
With a sharp intake of breath, Steve winced at the
full-circle strangeness of events. Resignation.
Jane. What did it all mean? Only Danno could answer that. No, his friend would not, could not now. So, Steve would have
to find the answers for himself.
Aching for his friend, he wanted to find Danno more than
ever. To offer
consolation and support at a time when Williams needed it so badly. From the description of the caretaker, Danno
was suffering over this. Of course he
was. Beyond the terror hanging over
Clara’s head, Danno was reliving the pain of Jane’s murder. Living through this current crisis knowing full well what a monster -- a cold-blooded-killing
monster he was dealing with in Gregson.
It made Steve sick thinking about what Danno was going
through for the tortured past --- for the agonizing present -- for the unknown
future. Heart pounding, he watched Chin
and Duke hurrying to join him.
“The gardener says the haole who looked like Danny drove a
blue convertible with the top down.”
McGarrett started the engine and the others jumped in barely
before the car rolled. Explaining the
connection with Williams and the tombstone, McGarrett headed toward
Kahala. He remembered Sally Gregson had
a house out there. HPD dispatch returned
the call, saying they had no listing for a Sally Gregson. Knowing she must have changed her name, he
continued heading for the exclusive neighborhood while the detectives strained
to remember details of the years-old case.
Duke was not even on the team then, and hardly remembered it.
Then he had the switchboard find
out if Walter Gregson was still in prison, and if not, why.
Dispatch called back, giving the maiden name and the address
of Sally Clark, formerly Gregson, on
When Duke returned, he reported Dispatch called back. Gregson was released
on parole three days ago.
“And nobody at corrections thought to tell us?” he
exploded. “What is wrong with those
people? We’re
supposed to be notified when personal case criminals are up for parole! Get on
the radio and get HPD working on this.
Get the parole officer. Find out
where Gregson is staying, what he’s been doing, who
he’s seen. This is top priority!”
“More important than the
conference --“
“Yes!” he barked without thinking. “Yes.
Preparations for the conference are rolling smoothly. This is life-or-death for Clara Williams and
maybe Danno, too! Right now -- tonight
-- this is our only priority!”
Grimacing, Duke continued with the bad news. “Also talked to a neighbor next door who said
there’s been a lot of traffic at this place considering Sally Clark has gone to
Maui. Two days ago, a thin man with dark
hair and a mustache came by. Less than
an hour ago a young man with sandy hair, dressed in a tan suit, parked his old,
blue convertible down the street and walked into this back yard.”
“Danno.
Well, at least we’re
on his trail,” he mused as he continued shuffling through the papers. “Duke, get Maui PD on the line and tell them
to issue protection to Sally Clark.”
Kelly joined him. “No cash,” Chin assessed as he studied the contents of the
safe. “But there’s
a few bank books - look like they’ve been messed with. The folders are on the floor and the books
look haphazardly thrown into the safe.”
“Maybe Gregson was mad about all the money his ex-wife has
accumulated since their divorce.” He
glanced at the evidence. “Bank of
“Kahala Branch.”
With a sigh, McGarrett suggested they head over to the
nearby mall bank. They probably already
missed Danno and/or Walter, but it seemed to be the next clue in this bizarre fox-and-hound game he was playing with his best
friend. He always ended up one-step behind
Williams. If only Danno would stop and
think things through -- trust him enough to let him help. Truthfully, he knew
if their positions were reversed, Steve would do
anything to save his friend and nothing to endanger the life most important to
him.
õõõõõ
The parking lot was empty as Dan pulled into the familiar
area above Hanauma Bay. After a day of
blistering sun burns, most tourists were gone, fleeing from the tropical rain
now assailing the undersea natural wonder.
The snorkelers and swimmers had packed up. No one wanted to be hanging around the beach
on a rainy day. He had the place to
himself.
Where was he supposed to go now? Again, no specific
instructions, but the vague notion that Walter was leading him by the nose. Making him backtrack to those events years
before when their lives had changed.
Standing at the rock wall, overlooking the cloudy bay and the multi-hued
water filled with coral and marine life, he couldn’t
help but look down the nearby dirt path.
The spot where he had captured Walter and nearly
killed the man. If only he had
followed through that bright, hot day.
Aunt Clara wouldn’t be suffering now, Steve
wouldn’t be threatened, all because of his hesitation.
There was no sign of Walter or Clara, but he did spot something
under a lava rock just to the side of the parking lot. It was another manila envelope. He opened it and scowled. The contents were smeared
from the rain. Brilliant Walter had not
taken into account the storm. That meant
this was all planned far ahead of time. It didn’t prove he
was not under observation. It didn’t mean Clara was alive.
He pushed aside the grim doubt.
Standing under a tree that afforded thin protection from the downpour,
he read the cryptic instructions:
Trade Sally and money for your aunt.
Meet me at DH
8PM.
Another game.
Another
deadline. He really hated Walter.
õõõõõ
As he waited to talk to the manager, Samuel Akaka, McGarrett
paced in the small office and looked through the windows at the small
bank. The trail so far was
disturbing. Walter was obviously after
Danno. The cemetery bit was sick. What else would the ex-con do to exact
revenge against Sally and Danno -- two people he obviously hated?
Akaka and a woman named Pritchard joined him. They reported the unusual event of Williams
coming in for Ms. Clark’s money. Two million! The
amount was staggering, but Steve was more focused on
the news of Danno being the mule for Gregson.
When he learned Williams was coming back for the money, his heart
swelled with relief. Finally, he was
one-step ahead of Danno. It was not easy outsmarting someone he had trained all too well. Now, the chase would be over! He would convince Danno to let him help and
they would both find Clara and save her life.
The darkness now advancing with the thick clouds and the
oncoming tropical sunset, the bank staff went through the motions of closing
up. Steve ordered Duke to move the
Mercury away from the front of the bank and ordered his detectives to stick
with HPD back up in unmarked cars for a possible tail set-up. He wasn’t really
sure what to expect, but wanted to be ready for multiple possibilities.
“Steve, Chin. Duke
and I are in position on the street.
Looks like the blue convertible coming our way.”
“Hold tight, gentlemen. We don’t want to spook him.”
“What do you think he’s going to
do if he sees us?”
“Let’s not find out,” McGarrett
tersely reasoned.
õõõõõ
Just before closing time, Dan sped into the bank parking lot. There were still a few cars in front and instinctively he felt it would be too conspicuous to pull up by the doors. Cruising for a slot, he grew unaccountably nervous . . . .
At the nearby mall that backed to the bank,
there were vehicles parked near the service alley. Sedans - Unmarked cars? From this distance, he could see people
sitting in the cars. Too
far to distinguish identities, but near enough to see the silhouettes through
the dim lighting and the rain. His instincts told him it was a set up. How could they
know? He didn’t know!
Steve! Was Steve onto him? How? He checked around as he drove past the bank
and along the side of the mall. Under
the trees at the back -- was that Steve’s Mercury? Did he go into the bank and find out? If Steve was there, he was
trapped. If Walter were watching he would know it was a trap, and see Dan nabbed by
McGarrett.
He couldn’t go to the meet without
the money. He didn’t
have Sally, so he couldn’t go without the payment. Could he risk capture?
Part of him longed for Steve to prove to be better and
smarter than him. A part of his
conscience and heart longed to surrender this burden to his friend. To let Steve handle this
mess and be relieved of the terrible weight of his aunt’s life so literally in
his hands.
There was no question he would take the risk of meeting Walter empty handed. The alternative was unnecessary danger to McGarrett. As much as he needed the support and comfort of his closest friend, he could not give in to the desire to let Steve take over. Agonizing as he pulled away from the bank and around the mall, he pondered his next move. Going to the meet empty handed was better than being stopped by Steve. If Walter saw him anywhere near McGarrett then Clara and Steve were both dead.
õõõõõ
“It's Danny. He’s just passed the bank,” Duke
reported. “Now he’s driving slow, going
toward the mall.”
His subject was out of his line of sight now, so Steve had
to rely on the others for visual reports.
Cautiously, he stepped away from the counter and crouched behind a desk
to get a view of the blue car. The
convertible was closing in on the mall, away from the bank.
“Did he spot you?” Steve almost
accused.
“No -- uh-oh, he’s cruising away
-- maybe he’s going to turn around.”
Mad enough to chew nails, McGarrett watched from a concealed
spot in the bank as Williams cruised completely past the building, past the
mall, and out onto the street.
“Don’t let him get away!”
Walkie-talkie in hand, he raced outside and ordered the unmarked units
to follow Williams as he raced for his car.
Chin and Duke, already in a sedan, were in pursuit.
“He’s heading makai,” Kelly reported.
“Don’t lose him!”
Steve jumped into his car and screeched out of the parking lot to join
the chase. “Street?” Steve yelled, still
communicating on the hand-set.
“He’s just turned Ewa on Kahala.”
“Don’t lose him!”
Two other units joined the chase and McGarrett kept a tight
rein on the progress as he raced through the wet streets in the closing
dusk. Drizzly rain still splashed the
windshield as he swept through residential neighborhoods scanning for the blue
car.
“Chin, do you see him?”
Steve thought he spotted the car, but charging around the
corner, was disappointed to see it was a blue sedan, not a convertible.
“No, thought we had him, but no sign of him now.”
“Where is he?”
Several reports cracked across the radio, all negative. No sign of Williams.
“McGarrett, this is Unit Two.”
“Go ahead, Unit Two.”
“Subject heading into Kapahulu
district --“
“On my way!” McGarrett answered, screeching around the next corner and
heading on the other side of
By the time he reached
“You lost him?” he didn’t even have to ask.
The chagrin was clear on their expressions.
“Gave us the slip, boss,” Chin
was the one to make the excuse.
McGarrett hit the fender of the LTD. He returned to his car and kicked the
tire. “Did anyone manage to get a
license plate number?” he growled to no one in particular.
õõõõõ
Turning onto the street, Williams sped away, ditching into
several Kahala residential streets, cutting through Kapahulu, winding his way
back to
Deciding he was too conspicuous, and thinking this was the
last thing Steve would expect, he returned to his street and left the
He could change cars and temporarily confuse
McGarrett, but that still left him without the two-part ransom. What was he going to do about that? A question he still had no solution for.
Dashing up to his apartment, he risked making a call to Detective Nephi Hilton, an ally at HPD. Stymied in other directions, maybe Dan could make progress with one angle. At least enough to stall Walter from hurting Clara. He was hoping no one at HPD knew about his resignation. That was not something Steve would advertise, certainly, so maybe he was safe.
As he
finished dialing he thought of the plainclothes surveillance at the bank. Steve had already called in help. How much did they know? Was Dan a fugitive? He was about to find out. As he listened to the rings
he glanced at the kitchen counter. The
note was still there, but looked like it had been crumpled up. By an angry boss? Steve had been here. Concentrating, he closed his eyes, detecting the
faint trace of McGarrett’s distinctive aftershave. So, as expected, the
top detective had been here, seen the note and successfully followed his
trail. Guess that proved who was the better
detective. Steve was right behind
him. Well, he had to improve or Clara
was dead, maybe Steve.
“Sergeant Hilton.”
Dan was jolted from his reverie. “Hey, Nephi, this is Dan Williams. I need you to do an address check for me,” he
rushed out. “I’m looking for Sally Clark. I’m thinking she’s on
“Uh -- okay,
Dan.”
Nephi and Dan went back a long time. Dan bought the Mustang from his big, genial
friend. Hilton would have been a prime
candidate for Five-0 except he had made it clear on several occasions he
thought his family life more important than Five-0. An attitude that McGarrett
accepted with complete understanding.
Officer Hilton was a stellar cop and painfully honest. From the odd reaction he was getting, he
guessed Nephi knew something fishy was going on. Should Dan press the issue or let it
drop? The thought of meeting Walter
empty handed pushed him to accept the risk.
“Yeah, can you run that down for
me?”
“Sure, but it will take a little
time. Do you want to hold on?”
“No,” he snapped out. “I -- I’ll call -- I’ll call back.”
Slamming down the phone he grabbed
his car keys and left quickly. Was Nephi
going to run a trace on him? Report to McGarrett about the call? What was he going to do now? Get out of here for sure, he knew. After that? Man, he needed to think. To find a way out of this
terrible trap and use his brains.
There was probably a way to outsmart Walter, but he was
too keyed up to find it. Steve
could -- but Steve couldn’t help him. He was in this on his own and he had never
felt so alone, so in need of McGarrett’s help as now.
On the exterior walkway, he
nearly ran down Mr. Turner, who was exiting his apartment.
“Oh, Danny, is your wonderful
aunt
here yet?” he asked brightly. He looked
around. “I expected her --“
“No, not yet.
Change of plans.” he
replied hastily, savagely punching the elevator button to get the car to their
floor.
“You be sure to tell her I’m inviting her to lunch when she
arrives. And tell her I’ll show her the
article about you two in the paper when she comes.”
The elevator doors opened and
both stepped in. Dan slammed the button
for ground level.
“I’ll tell her,” he absently
promised.
When he reached the lobby, he raced to the garage. He drove out in the LTD, carefully checking
to make sure he was not followed, hoping there wasn’t
an APB out on the company car. To be
sure, he monitored the police channels, discovering that there was indeed an
APB out on him -- locate not pick up -- but not the LTD. Okay, that gave him a temporary edge. It wouldn’t take
long for the wily hound chasing him to figure out the switch. By then Dan would have to come up with
another plan.
Was Steve having the apartment watched? Dusk now, two headlights pulled into sight in
his rearview mirror. A
tail! If he wasn’t
more careful, he was going to get Clara killed, he agonized as he headed for
õõõõõ
Fuming, McGarrett reissued the APB on Williams, barely
restraining from a pick-up order. He had
to trust Danno on this -- that there was a reason for the fugitive
behavior. Why the elaborate chase? Why couldn’t Danno
just come and talk to him? He had to
know Five-0 was on his tail. Did the
kidnapper warn to stay away from the police?
Is that why Dan felt compelled to resign? Then Steve’s actions -- his overt chase and
the set-up at the bank -- might have endangered Clara and Dan. That was an unpleasant thought he didn’t dwell on for long.
His impatient and aggressive need for answers might have been the worst
possible choice. He had to believe he
was doing the right thing, though, in trying to find and help Dan. He clung to that thought, convincing himself
this was right.
Aimlessly cruising the Kahala
neighborhoods for a brief time, he returned to the bank with his
detectives. They were to interview the
manager for any other insight into this mystery. Staying in the car, he radioed HPD and asked
for an update on Sally Clark. He learned
she was under protection in
It was dark now and the rain was steadily pounding the roof
of the car. McGarrett pondered his next
step. The radio buzzed and he responded
to a call from Officer Hilton. When the
sergeant reported his conversation with Williams, Steve asked if the call had been traced.
Hilton had indeed thought to do that because of the APB out on
Williams. He asked why there was an APB
out on a Five-0 officer, and McGarrett declined to give out details.
“What about the trace?” he
demanded.
“Wasn’t on the
phone long enough, but it was from the
Steve’s pulse raced with hope. “Okay,” he almost shouted. “Okay, Sergeant, I want you to have the
switchboard route any calls from him to my car, you got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And run a trace the second Danno calls you. Mahalo,” McGarrett tersely thanked, then
clicked off.
“McGarrett.”
“Mr. McGarrett, this is Officer Matsua. Somebody just left Danny’s apartment building
driving the Five-0 LTD. We’re in pursuit
on
“I’m on my way!” Steve shouted,
throwing the mic down and revving the car to life.
Energized with the closeness of his prey, with the tingle of
excitement that he could finally bring this all to a close,
he raced through the night streets slick with rain. Windshield wipers slapping, he drove more
recklessly than he should have, but urgency and tension lent weight to his foot
and threw caution out the window.
The chase progressed to
õõõõõ
Well, obviously whoever his counterparts were in the sedan,
they were good. Or
he was rusty at street racing, Dan bitterly mused as he flew along
õõõõõ
Matsua reported Williams had pulled into the
parking lot of a grocery store. Whoever
was in the LTD -- they didn’t get a good look because
of the distance -- had run into the store.
Instructions?
Screeching through a final intersection and almost upon
them, Steve ordered them to stand clear and just observe the store. He did not want HPD men hassling Danno. This
was a personal matter. HE could approach, he could break the
rules, but he didn’t want others intruding on what to
him was a delicate operation. Clara’s
life was at stake, he was sure. Maybe his. Maybe Danno’s. He wasn’t going to let anyone else take control. This had come down to a private contest
between him and his friend. A challenge -- to connect with his friend, to get answers and help
finish the perilous game.
õõõõõ
Running in, Williams
found an empty aisle and slowed to a walk, purposely making his way to the
back. He didn’t
have a plan. Not for
any of this. Maybe that was where
he was falling apart. That was one
reason why Steve was outclassing him at every step so far. Steve always had a plan.
õõõõõ
Slamming the car to a rocking halt, McGarrett jumped out and
paused at Matsua’s car only long enough to find out Dan -- or the guy in the light suit -- was still in the store. Trying to restrain his racing heart and the
fiery anticipation of the coming confrontation, McGarrett jogged into the
store.
õõõõõ
Knowing he could never outsmart his boss, Dan knew he had to
improve on his methods, though, or he was going to get
captured. Slipping through the
stock-room doors for employees only, Dan coursed through the stacked boxes to
the far wall of the stockroom. At this
hour, there were no deliveries or anyone back here. It gave him some breathing space and time to
think. Pacing, he felt trapped. It was only a matter of time before the
hounds spotted his car. Then they would
be here. He stalked back to the
storeroom doors and looked through.
There was McGarrett! In the store!
Again, the nearly overwhelming desire to surrender almost
pushed him to reveal his position. If
only he could give up and give in. He couldn’t do that
to Clara, he sighed, biting his lip against the temptation to call out to his
friend.
õõõõõ
Riddled with tense expectancy, Steve charged through the
store with purposeful strides, checking aisle after aisle in search of his
prey. Nothing so far in the big store,
and his frustration was growing with each negative point of the hunt.
At the last aisle, he stopped a young kid stocking the
shelves. Proffering his badge -- nearly
impressing the youth beyond speech -- he described Williams and asked if the
young man had spotted him. The employee
reported he saw a light-haired man who was soaking wet go into the back
storeroom.
õõõõõ
Dan leaned his head against the door, desperate, feverishly
trying to think. What was he going to
do? He glanced back through the window,
appalled that Steve was just down the aisle talking to a clerk!
õõõõõ
McGarrett automatically glanced toward the back door and
gasped. Danno was watching him through
the window of the storeroom door! They
stared at each other for a moment, then the frozen shock was broken and Williams
disappeared.
“Danno!
Stop!”
Williams hesitated, only an instant. In the light spilling from the open door, his
face was white with surprise and distress.
Then he disappeared to the pouring rain outside.
Racing, Steve dodged around palates of cereal and boxes of canned
goods and pushed open the back doors leading to the outdoor freight bay. He slammed the door against the brick wall as
he sailed through. Looking in both
directions, he saw no one.
He set out in a furious run. Picking a direction, he ran to the end of
the building. When he reached
the corner there was no sign of his friend.
The alley opened to a street siding the grocery
store. Just one house away, there was
another street. On the other side of the
store was the parking lot and the small line of other
shops. Which way had he gone? So close! He distressed in agonizing
frustration.
“Danno!
Danno!”
he muttered
under his breath. “What am I going to do
with you?”
Stymied, knowing each second played against him in this wily
game of hide and seek, he dashed back toward the parking lot. It would be hopeless for him to search the
neighborhood behind him on foot. And why would Danno go there anyway? He must have doubled-back to where there were
cars and an avenue of escape.
õõõõõ
A yellow city bus pulled up to the curb just as Williams
rounded the corner from the alley. Steve
would be on top of him in a moment.
While Dan was fast, Steve’s longer legs and tenacity might prove the
winning edge. Dan ran onto the bus
without thinking. Above the windshield,
he had noted the destination -- Koko Marina.
Rushing aboard, he fished out change, tossed it in the receptacle and
took a seat at the far side of the bus.
Sinking low, he nervously watched as the bus pulled away and
he saw no sign of McGarrett. As they
passed the parking lot and turned onto
Breathing a little sigh of relief, with elbows on his knees,
he buried his face in his hands. How was
he going to maintain sanity against this pressure? The double-edge sword of peril to Clara and
Steve, and fighting against Steve, was intolerable and nearly
overwhelming. He couldn’t
give up. He was no quitter, certainly
not when it came to his ohana. But, how he longed for an end to the cruel game.
õõõõõ
Unbelievable!
HPD officers and
Five-0 could not track down one man!
Okay, Danno was the best, he admitted, breathing hard, pacing slowly
around his car as he regained his energy and air. Danno was proving his skill with embarrassing
and frustrating accuracy. McGarrett
stood in the drizzly night atmosphere, then in a fit of frustration pounded his fist on the wet roof of his
Mercury.
“I’m going to get you,
Danno. I am not going to let you go
through this alone,” he vowed.
Chin’s LTD pulled into the parking lot and McGarrett gave a
wave to Kelly and Lukela as they approached him. Thinly exhaling, he thought about his next
move and instructions. A report came in
that the blue convertible was found on Kalakaua near
Williams’ apartment. The car was registered
to Gregson’s landlord, who gave him permission to use
the car that morning. Another
dead end.
Aggravated, McGarrett muttered under his breath at his
stubborn, cunning and resourceful second-in-command. When this was over . . . .
when this was over there better be a happy ending, was
all he could manage to threaten silently.
õõõõõ
One of the picturesque, hidden treasures of
Koko Marina was dotted with condos and apartments and housing tracks. The shopping center and boat docks a local secret, off the tourist route. Tonight, the shops were still open and when he exited the bus, Dan slipped into a close-by dark, smoky bar. He ordered a beer and took it to a corner table, waiting to see if he was followed. The bus ride had afforded him a few minutes to think things through. Time for the meet with Walter was almost upon him. He had no choice to go without the money. He could make excuses and promises, but in the end, had to throw himself at the mercy of the criminal.
Digging out more pocket change, he slipped
outside to a pay phone and reluctantly dialed HPD, asking for Hilton’s
extension. They would have traces set
up, but he had to risk it. He needed the
information on Sally. It
was the only thing he could offer Walter. He had to make it sweet enough to appease the
kidnapper to at least buy him more time and save Clara.
“Hilton.”
“Nephi, did you get that
address?”
“Danny. Sure
did. Hold on, let me find it. My
desk is such a mess.”
Several loud clicks sounded.
“Danno, don’t hang up.
We have to talk.”
A gasp of surprise escaped, and
instinctively, Williams cried out, “Steve!”
“Danno, please, let me help you. I’ve pieced together
--“
“Steve, I can’t let you get
involved!” he shouted, agonized to be talking with the one person he could not
contact. He tugged at his dripping
hair. “I can’t have anything to do with
you! Didn’t you read my note?”
There was no longer a danger of Walter knowing his every
move or hearing his every word. However,
there was the very real threat that Steve would continue to step in the way and
do something to get himself killed.
“Listen to me -- I know you’re under duress. I can help --“
“Don’t do this, Steve, please,” he pleaded, suffering beyond belief at the choices he was obligated to make. More than almost anything, he wanted to let
his friend take over. Almost. “I’m so sorry. For everything. You’re in terrible
danger if you have anything to do with me --“
“Let me be the judge of that! Walter Gregson is threatening you --“
“Steve!”
“He has Clara and --“
“Stop!”
“I can help, Danno!
You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself!”
“He’ll kill you! I can’t take the
risk, Steve. I have to do this alone.”
“Danno, you are not alone!
Don’t shut me out!”
“No -- you don’t understand --“
“Then tell me, Danno!”
“I can’t talk to you about --“
“I know Gregson has Clara.
Please
let me --”
Dan forced himself to hang up and sever his lifeline with
the one person who could give him continued strength. The person he needed most in this crisis, the
one best qualified to offer comfort and aid, was the last person he could talk
to now! The compassion and near-pleading from Steve was agonizing. Physically suffering from the gut-wrenching
dilemma, Dan left, walking in a daze in the rain. Leaning on a wooden post at the end of the
sidewalk, he consulted his watch. Time
was almost up.
õõõõõ
McGarrett threw the mic into the car with a merciless
growl. “Dammit,
Danno!” For good measure, he
pounded the top of the car with his fist. He walked around the Mercury, sizzling mad,
talking to himself. “Okay,” he breathed,
pacing away. “Okay, Danno, you’ve won
another round, but, I promise you, this will not last!”
He stared up into the black night sky, allowing the rain to wash his face and soak his hair. Beyond caring about comfort or appearance, he paced back to his car. All right, his friend -- his talented, skilled, wily, well-matched friend -- was making him work for this. Obviously, the threat against Clara was substantial and Danno was not going to risk any danger to her. And clearly complicating things was Danno's intense worry over his safety. Why didn't Danno understand he could take care of himself? Typically, Williams was intimidated by danger to McGarrett -- an old scenario they seemed destined to repeat.
Steve, though, could not allow this to go
on. As he had advised so many ransom
victims in the past, the kidnapper always had the upper hand. And adult victims
rarely survived the ordeal. The criminal
nabbed the money and killed the victim in most
cases. That was why it was so important
for Danno to cooperate with him. At the end
of this twisted plot, he foresaw fatal ends for Clara and Danno. Gregson
had no reason to let them live no matter what Williams did. Yet, to save
Clara, Danno had no choice.
Whatever Gregson had said and done, it had filled Williams with fear
for Clara’s life, and Steve’s life. Two horrible dangers -- a double-edged sword at his friend’s
throat. Hazards
that reached beyond Dan’s faith in Steve. Instead of wounding his pride, that
realization filled McGarrett with even more iron resolve. He WOULD
find Danno, and Gregson, and help get Clara out of this alive. This was probably their most important moment
in Five-0, and he would not let his friend down
Chin called him over to the car
and Steve jogged to meet him.
“Sergeant Hilton just checked in,” Chin reported, the
excitement sizzling his voice. “Danny’s call came from Koko Marina.”
With a yelp of triumph, Steve ran to his car. Koko Marina.
Only minutes away! They might
have him this time! The hound was closing
in on the fox and this could be the end of the hunt. He hoped.
õõõõõ
He would have to steal a car, Dan
cringed, hating this descent into an enforced fugitive -- now criminal --
life. The bus would not be quick enough,
with the slow speed and connections. He
would probably have to make transfers, too, and that would waste precious
minutes he didn’t have anymore. Steve’s tenacious and all too brilliant
methods had cost him time. He could not
begrudge the efforts. Steve’s
interference was expected, and in a way, soothing and emotionally pacifying to
his troubled nerves. It was stressful knowing McGarrett kept trying to throw
himself into the unseen danger. It was
comforting to know his tenacious and loyal friend would never give up on him,
never desert him, even when Dan adamantly requested such atypical actions.
A taxi pulled up and dropped someone off at the bar. Dan scurried over and the driver leaned out
the window. Wary, Dan checked the area
for undercover cops, then scrutinized the driver. The stubbly beard and the chewed up cigar
made him think the buy was for real. He didn’t know any undercover guys who got into a role like
this! He almost laughed. Steve’s prowess was top-notch, but now he was
seeing McGarrett’s hand behind everyone he encountered.
A taxi - traceable.
But,
by the time Steve followed this trail -- as he inevitably would -- the
denouement would be finished. The Fate
of Clara Williams, Walter Gregson, and himself, would be decided by then. At least Steve would be safe. Heaven help them all.
“Hey, buddy, ya need a lift?
Decent fares.
Ya look like ya could use a ride somewhere outta the rain.”
“Yeah,” Dan decided instantly and
jumped in the back.
“
“At this hour?”
“Yeah.
I want to go on a
moonlight hike.”
As the man turned the car into the main road along the
marina, he glanced back at his fare.
“It’s rainin’. There ain’t no moon.”
“Mahalo,” Dan sighed, leaning his
head against the back of the seat and closing his eyes.
This was almost over.
The wrenching deceit, the straining anxiety for
Clara’s safety, the looming, unknown threat ominously laying ahead like the
clinging dark clouds over the Koolaus.
Whatever Walter was planning as the end-game,
it was almost over. He glanced at his
watch. He would have only a few minutes
to spare by the time they made it inside the crater.
õõõõõ
Bitterly, McGarrett accepted that he had
been outfoxed by his akamai colleague. Again. There was no trace of Williams,
he fumed as he paced under the eves, just out of reach of the decreasing,
gently sprinkling rain at the Koko Marina shopping center. Williams’ call had been
traced the phone here near the bar. How had Williams
come here without a car? That remained
to be discovered.
Did he leave yet? Men were
combing the area, but Dan could have already left via a boat or a car they didn’t know about, or he could have left with Gregson. When Chin pulled
up, McGarrett asked for an update on Gregson.
If they could not follow the trail by chasing Williams, they would try
to find where Gregson and Clara Williams might be hiding.
“We got HPD checking on a few things now,” Detective Kelly
reported as he consulted notes within the shelter of the sedan. “Gregson rents an apartment in
Pacing, snapping his fingers, watching the rain drops
splatter off his polished black boots, Steve sighed and tried to think -- as he
so successfully did -- in the place of the criminal. He knew almost nothing about Gregson. The man was a vicious animal and had entered
McGarrett’s sphere as the murderer of Danno’s girlfriend. So the enemy had
malice, ability and cold-blooded nerve.
Proven to be a ruthless killer, Steve more than
ever feared for Clara and her nephew at the mercy of this monster.
Duke jogged over, excited.
“Steve, we’ve been interviewing locals and tourists. A few people spotted Danny in that bar over
there.”
McGarrett looked to the establishment in question. A cab just pulled up to drop off two
club-hoppers.
“Did you talk to the
cabbies? Danno might not have a car.”
“Yeah, been talking to the ones I
could nail down.”
Duke jogged over to the cab and McGarrett followed. The cabbie, chewing on a cigar, admitted he
picked up Danny from here about a half hour before.
“And took him where?” Steve
snapped.
“Inside
Flashes of how easy it would be to hide bodies in the brush
and trees of the isolated area preyed in McGarrett’s mind. He knew he might be endangering his friend
and Clara by overreacting now. But, he might be saving their lives by acting fast.
“Let’s go!” he ordered and raced
for his car.
õõõõõ
Dan paid off the driver and stood there in the drizzling
rain, looking at the looming shadows around him -- the black lava walls of
His entrance into the area was probably
routinely monitored by the army. After all, a super secret underground
government installation shared the crater.
On this side of the crater, it was a park with tables and picnic areas
and trails leading into the rugged, brush-strewn desert-like interior. Many hikers made their way up to the summit
of
“Hello, Danny.”
Williams turned, surprised.
Walter, pointing a gun at him, stepped out of the darkness. He had changed so little in the years in
prison. Well, the slimy creep always had
a way of breezing through life. Marrying into money with
Sally. Slipping
out of two life sentences by employing a sharp attorney. Coming up with this horrible kidnapping ploy
to have Dan do his dirty work and steal money for him. Walter’s charmed life was over, Dan promised
himself as he stared at his enemy, fists clenching in rage.
“Where is she?”
“Where’s the money?”
“Where you
can’t get it until I have my aunt back.”
Angry, Walter stepped
forward. “I told you --“
Unable to control his temper, Dan grabbed him by the shirt
collar and slammed him against a support beam.
“The game ends here, Walter. You
take me to my aunt. When I see she’s alive and well you are going to release her. Then I take you to the money and Sally.”
The revolver jabbed into Dan’s
ribs. “That’s not --“
“That’s the only deal!
You don’t get anything until I know she’s safe
from you! I’ve
done your bidding for hours and this is the end, Walter. You take the deal or I’ll kill you right
now.”
“I’ll kill you first.” The gun jammed into his ribs.
Barely wincing, Dan allowed his anger to filter through his
voice and eyes and shaking fists gripping his foe. “You kill me and you don’t get the money or
Sally. And if
anything happens to me or my aunt, you’re finished. Do you think McGarrett would let you live
after that?”
Invoking the all-powerful spectre of McGarrett made Walter’s
eyes widen with fear. Less assured, he
stepped back, keeping the pistol trained on Williams. “If you try any tricks you’ll never find your
aunt.”
“If you don’t take me to her now,
you’ll never get that two million and you’ll never get to Sally.”
Gregson pushed away.
“Then you behave yourself, Danny, or I will kill you and think of
another way to find Sally and get back my money.”
“Her money.”
The revolver wavered in Dan’s face. “I should have had it all! But thanks to you I went to jail instead!”
Fighting to maintain his reason, Dan countered levelly.
“Then the only thing to do is to take me to my aunt and you’ll have what you
want.”
The rage must have pushed him over the line and convinced
him his life was worth nothing. It was
not acting. Dan would gladly strangle
the man given any more provocation. If
something had happened to aunt Clara, Walter was as good as dead.
“Okay,” he agreed, sliding away. He patted down Dan’s waist and shirt,
assuring he was unarmed. “My car is
behind the trees. But any tricks and you
are both dead.”
õõõõõ
As he half expected, there was no
sign of Williams inside the crater. Chin
drove over to
The page on his radio sounded loud in the quiet night. So quiet he could hear the rain hitting the
park shelter and pelting the trees.
McGarrett jogged over and received the call from HPD. A thorough search revealed Gregson owned a
car and property under the name of Payson.
Apparently he had these goods hidden away from
before he went to prison. McGarrett
jotted down the address in nearby Aina Haina.
õõõõõ
Sitting in the car with this murderer and kidnapper was a
strange experience. He wanted to
throttle the man, but he was forced to be
civilized. Forced to maintain the short
distance between them and keep the monster alive. At least for a little
while.
“You didn’t really have my
apartment bugged, did you?”
Walter smirked. “What do you think?”
“No.”
“Then why play along?”
“Because there
was an element of doubt.”
“I played you for a sucker, Williams. And you did a very
good job of it, too. Right
down the line.”
“Yeah,” Dan admitted, but lacked
sharp feelings of self-criticism.
He had played the only way he could in this vicious
game. With a little measure of
satisfaction, he knew he was playing Walter, too. The trick -- who would win
the endgame in the unforeseeable future?
He had ditched his best ace -- McGarrett. He had to win this one on his own. There was only one ace left up his cuff. Covertly, he slipped the .22 out of his
ankle holster and tucked it into his pocket.
In a few minutes they pulled off of Kalani Highway to a
beach house in Aina Haina, just on the other side of the park. Dan held his breath, not knowing what to
expect. He had half-thought he and his
aunt would be murdered and their bodies left in the
desolate crater of
On his guard, he restrained his anxious desire to see his
aunt and kept a wary eye on Gregson, who had the gun on him. Should he make his move now? No, he didn’t know
if there was an accomplice in the house with Clara. Best to let this play out, make sure Clara
was safe and could escape, then he would kill Walter
before the man learned there was no money.
The house was a decent beach cottage with lights on and a
nice little dock at the surf line. A
small boat bobbed in the water pelted with drizzly, gentle rain. Walter unlocked the door and motioned for Dan
to enter. It was a comfortable enough
place and he felt a little better knowing Clara had been kept
prisoner in a decent jail. Walter
unlocked the door to a back room, the revolver still trained on his
captive. Dan stood on the threshold and
blinked. There was Clara, standing
tensely by the window, with her hands behind her back. When she saw her nephew, she gasped out a
yelp of surprise! Dan rushed into her
arms and held her as she sobbed with relief.
“All right,” Walter said as he shoved Dan’s shoulder. “You see she’s fine, now where is the money?”
“I hid it,” Dan said.
Concealed by his embrace, he retrieved the .22 out of his pocket. In his aunt’s ear, he whispered urgently,
“Run. Now!”
Knocking against Walter, he pushed Gregson’s revolver toward
the ground and shoved his small pistol into his opponent’s chest. From out of nowhere, Clara bashed Gregson on
the head with a piece of wood. The jolt
shifted Dan’s pistol and when he fired, the bullet only grazed Walter. The stunned criminal went down on one knee
and took Dan with him, firing a shot that zinged through Dan’s shirt and
jacket.
“Run, Aunt Clara! Get to the boat!” he shouted, wrestling for
control of at least one gun.
All he needed was one shot and Gregson was dead. The Five-0 officer was beyond reasonable
conduct or the laws of society. This
monster had murdered his girlfriend and kidnapped and
terrorized his aunt and threatened his friend. There was no reason to let Gregson continue
to live.
They knocked into the side table and the lamp came crashing down atop them, showering them with shards of glass and plunging the room into darkness. Two more shots flashed out and Dan managed to dash out of the way and return a wild shot. The window crashed and windy rain flew in as Gregson escaped.
Williams
plunged out the window headfirst and rolled to his feet. Walter, a silhouette appearing and
disappearing against the lights of the house, was running up the beach. Walter was making for the boat at the
dock! That was where Dan sent his
aunt! Speeding now with complete
disregard for his own safety, Dan ran after him, not bothering to try and dodge the shots fired recklessly his way.
õõõõõ
McGarrett’s sedan sped up to the house, and he slammed hard
on the brakes when he saw a slim, slight figure dash from the front door. In the headlights, he realized it was Clara
and leaped out to grab her.
“Danny!” she shouted, but held
onto McGarrett in a tight embrace.
Afraid what her tortured cry meant, he tried to comfort her
while getting information. “Clara,
you’re safe now.” Chin and Duke, running
up to join them, had their guns out.
“Where is Danno?”
“In the house with that terrible man.”
Two shots rang out and Steve nearly shoved her into
Chin. “Get her out of here,” he ordered
and ran to the cottage.
The only illumination of the front yard came from the
headlights of the police cars. Revolver
drawn, McGarrett slammed up against the side of the beach house and caught his
breath, darting a cautious look through the window to the interior of the
house. Lights were on in several rooms
and in the back yard.
Heart pounding, McGarrett kicked in the front door and went
in, too anxious to wait for back up. The
end of the chase was finally upon them.
The fox and hound game was over. The victim safely under police protection. The fox -- still in
terrible danger.
Every wary step in the house escalated his anxiety. Shadows stretched out of the corners, looming
at the edges of his vision, taunting him in the half-light as he raced through
the eerily silent rooms. With each
moment, his fear increased; terrified around the next corner he would find his
dead friend. After all this -- after
finding Clara alive -- if he lost Danno now, he could not stomach the tragedy.
Just entering the kitchen, he heard another gunshot -- from
outside -- in the back. He hardly
paused, racing out to the nearby beach, relief at seeing Williams alive
mitigated by the ongoing drama.
Gregson, heading for a boat at the dock, shot at the pursuing
Williams. Heedless of the gunfire,
McGarrett watched his detective close on the criminal, tackling the man.
õõõõõ
Afraid Gregson would overtake
Clara, he ran as fast as he could in pursuit, hesitant to shoot in the night
without a clear target. Dan and Walter
reached the dock and in a moment Dan was
on him. Tackling Walter
threw both of them into the bottom of the small boat. Heedless of the painful crash, Dan smashed at
his foe with merciless rage. Guns lost in the fight, Gregson -- bleeding,
gasping in pain -- struggled to flee his mad attacker. Trying to get away, he scrambled toward the
dock. Dan pulled him back, the momentum
throwing them over the side to tumble into the shallow water.
Gregson thrashed out, hitting at
his opponent, but Dan fought back with unleashed fury. The fear for his aunt, the
anger at the long ordeal, the adrenalin from panic and wrath surging his nerves
into sizzling energy. Easily in
control, Dan threw Gregson into the side of the boat, pounding the man’s
head.
“Danno! “
Arms fought him from behind and he tried to push off the
interference, ignoring buzzing shouts in his ear.
õõõõõ
Racing onto the dock, McGarrett hoped he was in time to save Gregson. Steve quickly holstered his revolver and leaped into the knee high water after him.
He was relieved he was in time to save Gregson. It was not a noble, aspiration, but his only possible option. While Steve had sympathy for killing the monster, he could not allow his friend to carry through with murdering Gregson. As a cop, he had to cease the hostility by a fellow officer. As a friend, he had to stop his friend from making a life-altering mistake.
“Danno!
Stop! You’re not going to kill him!”
Thrashing in the thigh-high water, McGarrett wrestled with
Williams. Height, weight and strength on
his side, still Steve did not have the passionate drive for vengeance that was
propelling Williams into unleashed violence.
It was a real fight to stop the attack.
“Danno!
Stop!”
“Let me kill him!”
“No! Danno! Think what you’re doing!”
Grabbing his friend by the chest, he dragged the shorter
detective away, pulling him back.
Breathing hard, McGarrett held onto his captive until Chin and Duke
retrieved a gasping Gregson from the surf.
“That’s right, Danny!
Think what you’re doing!” Gregson taunted. “I should have killed your aunt when I had
the chance! Just like I killed Jane!”
As the detectives stumbled onto the dock with the prisoner,
Williams slipped away again and lunged for Gregson, tearing at his shirt. Lukela and Kelly swerved away, yanking the
criminal out of reach. McGarrett snagged
onto his friend and restrained Williams from further hostility.
“Danno!”
“Let me at him, Steve!” Dan nearly pleaded, but the fight
was gone out of his struggle and his voice.
He leaned back against Steve. “He
was going to kill Aunt Clara!”
“And you were going to kill me!” Walter continued to
taunt. “Just like you
tried to kill that kid! Don’t you
think I remember what you did to the last guy who made
you mad! Police
brutality, Danny!”
Grateful his friend was alive and the nightmare was over,
McGarrett stung with anger and pity at the monstrous gibes. If ever anyone deserved to die, it was this
beast. Yet, there was
nothing they could do but allow the due process of the law to provide justice
and lock Gregson away forever.
Holding tightly to his friend, Steve waited in the lapping
waves until Gregson was taken away. Then he guided Dan out of the surf, leading
them toward the beach where Five-0 sedans and HPD patrol cars with revolving
blue lights cluttered the yard. He held
onto Dan until they reached solid sand.
õõõõõ
The moment snapped into clarity, sweeping away the
blind fury and gradually replacing it with reason and sanity. Steve.
Steve was with him, holding onto him, keeping
him away from Gregson. The hatred
sizzled still, but exhaustion tempered the wrath. The game was over. They had won.
Aunt Clara was safe. Steve was
safe. Gregson was
detained.
“It’s okay,” McGarrett assured
breathlessly. “Clara is fine,
Danno. It’s okay now.”
Williams only nodded, stumbling along, allowing his friend
to guide him and take over the burden of the aftermath. Dazed at the intensity of his wrath, at the
sudden release from acute danger and disgust to safety and security, Dan
gradually oriented again to the real world.
Gregson was no longer a threat.
Clara was fine. Steve was
well. It was all okay. Steve just promised him that and he believed.
Aunt Clara
was suddenly in his arms, crying and he felt McGarrett’s strong
hold on them both; literally and figuratively supporting them. It really was going to be all right now.
õõõõõ
On the drive to
Being the nearly clairvoyant gentleman,
Steve drove, silently supportive, but allowing them a measure of privacy. All were exhausted, and from what he had seen
of his colleagues, Chin and Duke were as glad this was over as he was.
During the trip, Clara revealed her side of the ordeal. Gregson had appeared at the airport,
introduced himself as Dan’s associate, and explained he was her escort since
Dan was busy with an important case. An
all too familiar scenario, she thought nothing strange in accompanying him. When they bypassed
Shivering with residual anger and torment that she had gone through
such a harrowing experience, Dan was awed at her resilience. Especially when she mentioned how she worked
on escape while locked in the room. By
the time Dan entered, she had removed a leg from a chair and used it to beat on
Gregson and aid her flight.
“You’re really incredible,” he
beamed.
“Well, I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing,” she
huffed indignantly. “I’ve been in my
fair share of hot spots you know. During
the war I was in the field, you know . . . . “ she
trailed away with that thought as she covered a yawn. “Excuse me.
I think everything is catching up to me.”
“We’re almost to the Hilton,”
McGarrett offered.
Calming now, Dan began to edge away from the glow of relief
and the residual giddiness of sharp contrasts -- the life-and-death struggle
terminated by McGarrett. The reunion with his aunt.
The final comprehension all was well.
Now, he had to deal with the aftermath -- face Steve with
his betrayal and the wild things he had done.
Not a moment he looked forward to, but one he would have to get over
with as soon as he could. Was Steve
going to take the resignation seriously?
He didn’t want to think so, but he had
disobeyed Steve’s direct orders. Had
been a party to several criminal activities; ranging from probably Grand Theft
Auto to breaking and entering, attempted robbery of funds, aiding a
criminal.
On a personal level -- he didn’t
even want to go there -- but couldn’t help himself. Steve had been so livid with him! Hoping he could explain it all away, he gazed
out the rain-spotted window, observing the bright lights of
õõõõõ
One of the Five-0 detectives had thoughtfully called
ahead. When the party pulled under the
flower-draped overhang at the lobby, it was nearly
They looked like wrecks, Steve admitted, his wet suit and
ruffled appearance at least as bad as Williams’. Clara seemed exhausted and tense, but calming
down from the horrific experience.
“In all the excitement,” Clara sighed in the elevator up to
her room. “I forgot. That nasty man still has my luggage! I don’t have a thing to wear!”
Steve and Dan exchanged weary smiles, appreciating her
adroit effort to settle them down from the extreme emotions. Clara was still holding onto her nephew as if
she was afraid he would disappear, but otherwise she was showing every sign of
returning to normal faster than McGarrett could credit his own nerves. Danno still looked rocky
under the surface, but was keeping upbeat and quietly stalwart for his aunt. Too quiet, McGarrett
reasoned with concern.
Taking charge, Steve suggested, “I’ll have the hotel select
something from the stores. They have an
extensive shopping area in the village.”
“I know, but it’s so late!”
Steve winked at her. “I’m the head of Five-0, remember?”
“Yes,” she smiled like a pixie. “Wonderful to have friends
of influence. Did I ever tell
you, Steve, about the --“
“Not now, Aunt Clara,” Dan sighed
wearily. “Please.”
Shrugging, she continued with her story, heedless of her
nephew’s objections as the elevator stopped and Steve led them toward her ocean
front room.
“One of the nicest things about staying here,” she blithely
indicated the sumptuous rooms and stunning scenery
A smile finally reached Dan’s eyes, as he teased back, “No,
Aunt Clara, I thought it was so you could check out all the young surfers.”
Laughing, she slapped him on the
arm. “Danny, I’m too old for that type
of thing!”
“Oh, yeah.
Then why is Mr.
Turner, in my building, so anxious to see you.
He’s got a crush on you, Aunt Clara.”
“No,” she denied, not-very-convincingly.
“You’ve been flirting with him,”
he accused.
Saucily, she replied as she glided around the room, “You
don’t think I come to beautiful
õõõõõ
Steve phoned the manager on duty and explained the situation
about Clara’s belongings. He assured
sufficient supplies would be sent up to make her
comfortable for the night and the next day.
Only too happy to cooperate. Next, Steve called Duke, who was cleaning up
crime scene details at the house. He
asked Lukela to search for Clara’s luggage and get it over to the hotel at the
earliest opportunity.
After Clara was settled, the
detectives stayed until she threw them out, declaring she felt secure and safe
at the hotel. Steve promised increased
guards for the night just to make sure.
Shooing them away, she ordered them to be available for a late breakfast
with her in the morning.
õõõõõ
Well past
“I never made it back to the
Ilikai. I’ll do that first thing in the
morning.”
McGarrett scoffed.
“The only thing you’re doing first thing in the morning is having
breakfast with Clara on the lanai of her room.”
Dan straightened, staring at
him. “Steve, the conference --“
“Is going to be ready without your help for one day, Officer
Williams” he sternly drew the line.
“Your job is to play tour guide to a very nice malihini of our mutual
acquaintance. The closest you’re getting to the Ilikai is when you and Clara meet me
there tomorrow night for dinner in the Canoe House. At sunset.”
McGarrett didn’t
need to look at his friend to feel the disapproval.
“I want to do my part --“
“Then you’ll do what I ask,” Steve commanded simply as he
pulled up at the curb of Dan’s apartment.
‘You’ve done little
of that lately,’ he almost added, but knew
that would sound churlish and petty.
The crisis was over, his friend and Clara were alive and the
bad guy arrested.
Everything he wanted out of the horrible hunt of the day had thankfully
come to pass. Searching his inner core, he understood there
was no longer any trace of the hurt or anger he had initially felt at Danno’s
resignation and headlong chase around
“It seems like a long time since
I left here.”
“It was. A lot of mileage.” The tone was not completely devoid of irony. It had been a long and grueling trail. In time and space and events.
The rain had stopped, Steve noted,
thankfully, as they strode along the wet-slick sidewalk to the elevator. All seemed quiet at this end of
Clara was safe and Gregson behind bars. The kidnapping nightmare was over. Now came the tough
conclusion. Afraid his friend was about
to collapse, Steve grabbed onto him and helped him to the sofa. He sat there, holding onto his silently trembling
friend until exhaustion stilled the anguish.
Unable to think of anything comforting to say, he waited out the
emotional reaction.
“Why don’t you take it easy,
Danno,” he finally commented.
“I didn’t want to betray you,
Steve. I’m so sorry --”
“I know that. When I
figured out what happened with Clara, I understood. It was a terrible thing to go through.” He fished in his jacket pocket and retrieved
a leather case. He placed it in Dan’s
hand. “That’s yours. I don’t need to hold onto it anymore.”
“You mean --“
“When you have a chance, I’ll want a full report of course,
detective. You’re still on the payroll,”
he forged on quickly, not wanting to get mired in any
more emotional backwash. It had been a
long, tumultuous day and it was time to heal.
“Right now, why don’t you get some sleep?”
Williams shook his head. “I couldn’t.”
McGarrett nodded, understanding the need for contact and
companionship after a crisis. Something
he rarely admitted even to himself, but always appreciated when others --
notably Danno -- responded to silent needs.
In truth, Steve didn’t feel much like returning
to his apartment and trying to sleep. A near impossible task -- despite his heavy fatigue -- after the
keyed-up actions of the day and night.
“Okay. Why don’t you
change? Have you eaten lately?”
Dan’s blank stare answered
clearly.
“Okay, I’ll make something.”
“I couldn’t eat.”
“Well, I could use some strong
coffee.”
Williams tiredly nodded, then trudged toward the
bedroom. It was then McGarrett noted the
tear in the back of Dan's shirt and part of the white material tinged pink from blood.
“Danno, you’re hurt.”
Williams checked his side and seemed numb to the minor
injury that looked like a nick from a bullet.
McGarrett took charge, scrounging for first aid supplies and helping
patch up the slice. He suggested that
they take a trip over to the ER at Leahi, but Williams refused and went to
change clothes.
Unhappy at this vibrant evidence that everyone coming out
alive from this misadventure was a close thing, McGarrett went through the
motions of making coffee and calming his own strained nerves. Danno came too close to taking a bullet from
Gregson. This could have been so much
worse, he sighed raggedly. Hours ago, he
had been angry, hurt at the actions precipitated by his friend. Now, all that mattered was that all were safe
and the criminal behind bars.
Able to gain perspective and calm his nerves, when Williams
returned, Steve sat him down with a hot cup of coffee. Dan slowly delivered the explanation of
events with clarity: The empty
apartment, the phone call, the horrible ultimatum. Here, the objectivity slipped and Dan’s voice
tightened. McGarrett quietly urged him
to continue only when he was ready. Typically, the younger man kept going, toughing it out.
“Of course, I thought he was lying -- well -- knew there was
a possibility he was trying to trick me, but I couldn’t know for sure.” He took several long sips of his coffee.
“Of course not,” McGarrett agreed
reasonably. “The convertible ploy was
good, though.”
“The what?”
“Keeping the top down in the rain.
Only Dan Williams is
crazy enough to do that,” he grinned. “Crazy like a fox, Danno.
That’s how we were able to track you so easily for a while.”
“Well, you’re certainly the best tracking hound on the
island.” Williams frowned. “Steve, I hate to shatter your illusions, but
that was no cunning ploy on my part. The
electric top was broken.”
Steve’s grin faded quickly when he saw Williams was not
seeing much humor in the tense situation.
“Then I’m grateful for good luck.”
Dan nodded, still deeply troubled. “When he threatened to kill Aunt Clara, and
you, I had to go along with anything he said.”
The dilemma angered McGarrett, whose sympathies were
completely with his officer. Had the situations been reversed, Steve would have been
forced to comply, just as Williams. An unwilling puppet on a string. Something McGarrett would have detested.
“Yeah, I thought it was something like that.” What else could have motivated his friend to
perform such extreme acts, but severe threats to the people closest to
him? “I still wish you would have let me
help.”
“I couldn’t, Steve, I’m sorr--“
“It’s
okay, Danno. It’s over.”
“I didn’t break into Sally’s.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, Danno,” Steve smiled. “And she’s safe, under guard, in
There was silence for a time and McGarrett allowed his
friend to just still, mutely collecting thoughts and emotions. Deep confessions
were not something either of them indulged in with any fondness, but both
seemed to mutually acknowledge it needed to be done tonight.
As the younger man continued recounting his side of the
ordeal, McGarrett was again amazed at his friend’s talent as a cop, his clever
wit, his ability to think fast and stay cool in a crisis. Above all, he was impressed all over again
with Danno’s tenacity and loyalty. Of
course, Dan would do anything to save Clara, but he would also do anything to
keep Steve safe, and as always, that both comforted and frightened the top cop.
Grimly, Steve admitted, “I wasn’t too thrilled at the cat
and mouse games, Danno. The chase through Kahala.
The bank,” he laughed without much amusement. “The grocery store.”
With the ghost of a smile, Dan
explained his disappearing act on the bus.
“Using a bus! I
never would have . . . that’s
embarrassing.” Steve shook his head, unable to phrase the right words that
were both condemning and admiring for Williams’ sly actions. “Makes me glad you didn’t decide to become a
criminal on my beat.”
Grudgingly, Dan smirked. “I hope you know how --“
“Danno, I know. You don’t have to apologize again.”
“I feel so bad --“
“You were trying to save Clara. And me,” he reminded,
knowing that was always a motivation high on Williams’ priorities. “I understand.”
Dan nodded, for now accepting the assurance. “I hated leaving the bank without the
money. I didn’t
know what Walter would do when I showed with no cash. But, I couldn’t risk
being seen with you. I didn’t know if he
had the place watched, or had a gun on you or anything.” He rubbed fingers through his hair in
irritation. “And I -- I didn’t want to
face you. Everything would be over then
and you’d be right in the middle of the danger.”
Patting his arm, McGarrett could not easily reconcile the
choices. “I know you felt we were
threatened, but you shouldn’t have tried this on your own, Danno. I would have been glad to take the risk to help
you.”
“I couldn’t allow it.”
An old argument.
Sometimes Danno
could be so stubborn. Usually, he could
be convinced to see things Steve’s way, but not in a case like this. A source of irritated pride
for McGarrett. How could he
condemn his friend for wanting to save his life? For doing exactly
what Steve would do in this situation?
“So, what would you have done if Walter was angry at losing
the money?”
“Letting Walter call the shots was revolting. I did have a plan.”
Suspicions flaring, McGarrett had the impression there was
something else he was not being told.
Something Dan would have plotted, an ace up the
sleeve.
“To stay sane, I had to keep my
own ultimatum.”
Not liking the sound of that,
Steve asked him to continue.
“My only plan -- not a very good one, but all I could think
of -- was that Walter was desperate and needed the money. But he also wanted
the revenge against Sally. If things
hadn’t turned out the way they did, I would have traded myself for Aunt Clara,
convinced him to let me take him to Sally, and tried to somehow overpower him.” Grimacing, he shrugged, “It wasn’t much.”
Steve’s skin chilled thinking how easily he could have lost
Dan over such heroics. Walter would not
have hesitated to kill any and all of them.
Certainly, Gregson was not intending to let Clara or Dan live.
“I’m glad it didn’t come to
that. It was rough enough.”
“Yeah.”
With a sigh, he
leaned back and studied McGarrett.
“Thanks for hanging in with me.”
“You should have let me do more.”
“I wish I could. Believe me.
You don't know how close I came to caving in and asking for your help. But
I couldn't take the risk to you.”
Nodding in reluctant understanding, Steve warned, “Well, there better not be a next time, Detective
Williams. This disobedience to my
authority can not go on.”
The threat was only partially teasing, and Dan nodded,
understanding the subtext of the message: Knowing Steve hated Dan placing himself in danger to save him, knowing he always would take
those risks.
“You know, you could go home and
change. You don’t
have to hang out here. I’m okay.”
McGarrett squeezed his shoulder. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood and headed for the door. “But only at dinner,” he warned sternly,
jabbing a finger at his friend. “Your
day is devoted to Clara, remember?”
“Yeah.”
õõõõõ
If asked, Dan would not have been able to coherently respond to why he
was here. Standing on the other side of
the mesh-bars, he looked at the small holding cell and wondered why he had come
to visit Walter Gregson. After a decent
night of exhausted sleep, and a good breakfast with Aunt Clara, Dan had left
his relative to have her hair done, buy new tropical clothing, and get dressed
up for the upcoming dinner with Steve.
He, then, had come to HPD lock-up to visit the man he could still, quite
easily, murder without any provocation.
Gregson walked into the small room and Dan felt irritated to
be separated from the animal by the mesh-bars. For a moment he
stood there, giving away no outward clue to his disposition. Gregson, angry and sullen, glared at him with
undisguised hatred.
“What do you want?”
“To kill you.”
The response
startled the man and that pleased Dan.
“You deserve it after what you did.”
Sneering, but unsettled at the stark threat, Gregson stayed
clear of the thin metal separating them.
“I have nothing to say without an attorney.”
“I don’t want your confession. I don’t need
it. We have you dead-to-rights,
Gregson. I just wanted to come by and
let you know you will never see another sunset.
We’re going to put you away for the rest of
your life. No
possibility for parole this time.
And that’s just barely the beginning of what you deserve.”
“You know why I won’t be going to jail again, Williams? Thanks to you.” He nodded smugly. “You have a history of violence against
suspects, remember? Remember
Jane? The poor sod you thought
murdered her?”
“Shut up!”
“I’ll never be convicted after they hear what you did to
me! Look at these cuts and bruises!” he
shouted, pulling up one of his sleeves.
Muscles knotted with tight control, Dan wanted to plunge
through that mesh and kill this beast.
Barely in check, he reined in the livid
fury. Walter deserved to die at his hand
-- deserved it for Jane and the ordeal Aunt Clara went through.
Yes, years ago he had lost control. If he lost it now, he could blow the whole
case. He was older and more mature than
he was when Jane died, so he should have learned something. Learned that justice could
come without the rage. Maybe just
that he had to be the one to stop the violence and let others work for his
cause.
Heaviest in his thoughts, however, was the knowledge that if
he did anything to blow this case he would never
forgive himself. Neither would Aunt
Clara or Steve, and those two condemnations he could not endure. Much easier, he could withstand the silly
taunts of this animal.
“Come on, Williams.”
“I’m not going to give you the
satisfaction.”
Lips rippling with disgust, Gregson stared at the man who
had foiled him twice. “You better hope I
never do get out, Williams. If I do,
your life is worth nothing.”
“Then we’re even,” Dan snapped
back and turned away.
õõõõõ
Fuming, Dan stalked out of the interrogation room. The sharp slam of a door down the hall caught
his attention and he came up short, startled to look up into the blazing eyes
of Steve McGarrett.
“Steve!”
Taking Dan’s arm, he led them to
an unoccupied room.
McGarrett held the door open until Williams entered the
private room, then he slammed the door shut.
“Danno, I told you --“
“I needed to see him, Steve.”
McGarrett’s expression was
dangerously grim. “And compromise our
case against him?”
“I didn’t!”
“He was already claiming police brutality!” McGarrett
shouted back. “His attorney brought up
your incident with that artist from six years ago! Stay away from him, Danno!”
Angry at the implications,
Williams flung back, “I am not going to do anything rash, Steve.”
“Like harassing
a suspect?
Like coming here when I expressly forbid you
to be involved?”
“I didn’t harass him!”
“You better not.”
Frustrated, knowing Steve was probably right, but also
irritated at his own sense of helplessness, Dan tried to explain. “Steve, don’t you see, I needed to go back
and close this. Personally. Gregson dangled me at the end of his rope
yesterday and had me completely at his mercy.
He threatened you and Aunt Clara and drove me to do things I hated. I know we’re going to bury him at the trial,”
he conceded, still striving for understanding from his friend. “But I needed to go there and just tell him
that it was over. That we won. It’s stupid, I know, but it was something
that I needed to do.”
Nodding, McGarrett seemed placated and released a heavy
sigh. “I do understand, Danno. But this was not the way to handle it.”
Williams needed him to understand -- to know exactly what
was going on with this struggle that still haunted
him. “Walter -- he knows me too well,”
he admitted, the anger now washed away with regret. “He knew where I was vulnerable: Aunt Clara.
You.
Jane.” He leaned back against the
wall. “I had to see him here, behind
bars again where he won’t hurt anyone else.”
“He won’t I promise,” McGarrett
assured harshly. “He is pau.”
Dan nodded, knowing McGarrett was going to push for no
parole ever. Walter would be in prison
for life.
“Now, let’s not have any more disobeying orders, hmm?” The edge to the tone and the glare indicated
this was not a request.
“Okay.”
McGarrett patted his arm.
“Go back to
“All right,” Dan agreed with a
sigh.
They left HPD together and parted at McGarrett’s car parked
crookedly at the curb. Steve must have
rushed over here from the Palace in a big hurry. It didn’t make him
feel too privileged to be the target of his boss’ wrath. Dan wondered who had finked
him out and knew Steve had spies everywhere.
Gunning the Mustang to life, he slipped it into first gear
and wound his way through traffic toward the freeway. Reveling in the bright, strong, warm Hawaiian
sun in his face, the baking rays browning his arms, he felt a hundred years
away from the gloomy, dreary rain and desperation of yesterday. Rejoicing in the stereotypical splendor of
paradise, he raced through the streets, feeling the power of the vehicle and
the rush of wind in his hair.
Pondering more than just the beauty of the
õõõõõ
Typical of tropical weather, storms in
Literally and figuratively, a new day had dawned. Where he had experienced
fear and danger, now he appreciated the refreshed and sunny skies of hope and
gratitude. As he stopped at the
cement monument, he was surprised the red paint was gone. He had expected it to still be here, but that
seemed foolish upon reflection. It was
what he remembered so clearly -- the pain had been as intense and bright as the
red paint. The terror of last night
washed away as if cleaned by the tropical rain; the peril dissipated as the sun
chased away the dark clouds, so this was clean and clear, too. And like the red
paint, the fears and hurt that marred his heart were gone.
He had come here -- for resolution, he imagined. He didn’t really
know. It had all been
so tangled in hot emotions and anguish.
Jane’s death six years before -- Gregson’s actions
yesterday. He could not separate
the vicious acts from the emotions. What
was he doing here? He sighed as he stared at the gravestone, hands in the
pockets of his jeans, trying to remember details about Jane that he had not
thought of in years.
Disturbingly, the memories were not very sharp anymore. He could remember her face and her voice and
the sparkle in her eyes. But only snatches of moments. And still, the
confusion about his own feelings for her.
He had never sorted that out ever.
When they were dating, he did not want to think about a permanent
future. He was a Five-0 cop and that
level of commitment did not go well with personal lives. Certainly not families. He had seen the struggle Chin had balancing
it all. His career was too important to
think about changing.
In some back corner of his mind, he must have assumed he and
Jane would just go on; dating, having fun, seeing each
other. Maybe, all along, he didn’t think it would last.
Growing up in Kahala, he had rubbed elbows with the rich and privileged,
but never been part of the elite of the millionaire class that was Jane’s
world. He never really thought about his
place or his future with her. He always
wondered about how she would fit into his life at Five-0. All he knew now was that it was over. The doubts and uncertainties had been answered in a horrifying and vicious
termination.
Sensing a presence behind him, picking up the faint scent
of familiar after shave, he knew who was there before
he turned to greet McGarrett. Beyond
amazement at his friend’s clairvoyance, Dan shook his head.
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“Considering your mood, it seemed your next logical step,”
McGarrett replied with concern. “I
didn’t want to intrude, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Dan turned back to stare at the tombstone. “Walter sent me out here yesterday.” He touched the stone. “Almost like reliving it again. The loss and confusion.”
“I know. I was on your trail.”
”Even here?”
“Yeah.
It was a terrible
thing for Gregson to deface the grave and bring you here. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
The bleak memory of yesterday’s discovery here in the rain
flashed in his mind like a black and white snatch of film. Almost detached -- distant now in time and experience
-- the pain then had been sharp and bright like the red paint. Today, things were muted,
diluted, altered in the perspective of the bright Hawaiian sun of a new
day. Lucid in the
aftermath of relief.
Cleaned away, just like the red paint -- washed clear -- as
the brief and intense tropical storm had washed the land clean. The stark terror was only a memory now. The horrible fear for his aunt’s fate no
longer a factor; the recollection of those moments in the rain here now
subdued. The sharpest edge of hurt was
gone, but the distaste and bitterness lingered.
“You didn’t mention . . . .”
Dan shrugged, realizing it was something Steve would not want to bring
up.
“Neither did you. I figured if you wanted to talk about it you
would eventually.”
“Mahalo.”
Williams brushed his
hand along the cold, rough stone that now showed no effects of the
graffiti. “The message here, on Jane’s
gravestone, it was pretty stunning.” His
voice hoarse and tight, he drew in a deep breath, staying the bubbling emotions
that threatened to spill out with the anguished memories. After a moment, in
control again, he continued. “Walter
ended everything with Jane. I’ll never know what could have been. What might have happened. What I really felt for her. He took all of that away. Yesterday, Walter wanted me to remember his
power -- what he was
capable of doing. I couldn’t
take any risks after this. He was
reminding me he could kill the people I loved.”
Offering silent sympathy, McGarrett placed strong,
supportive hands on his shoulders. The
effect calmed him tremendously. This had
been a harrowing ordeal, but they had all come out of it alive. Six years ago, Jane had not. There was, though, nothing
he could have done about that. And maybe it was time to put it all behind him. When he left this cemetery today, he needed
to leave all the ghosts here. Stop
worrying about the unanswered questions and the unfinished story. Look to the future. His was solid and bright
and incredible. He had loving family and
friends and a wonderful life.
Turning, he gripped Steve’s
arm. “Mahalo. It’s okay. I can leave this behind now.”
McGarrett was skeptical. “No rush, Danno. These things take time.”
“No, I’m fine. Really.” Aware his
friend was not privy to his thought processes, he simply explained, “It’s
over. Walter’s escapade brought it all
back, but now I realize the unresolved issues are never going to change. I can’t let them
effect me now. Six years ago, I had to
move on and I did. Yesterday, I was so
afraid Walter was going to rob me of my loved ones again. He didn’t. Everything’s okay.”
McGarrett patted his
shoulder. “You sure?” His expression and tone
still dubious.
“Sure.”
Walking away from the grave, they ambled toward the cars,
the Mercury parked in front of his Mustang.
McGarrett didn’t seem
convinced. To forestall more
restrictions, Dan assured, “Really. I'm fine.”
Changing the subject to get them out of the somber mood, he asked
lightly, “After yesterday, should I be worried?
You’re not getting in the habit of following me, are you?” he asked
again as they reached the Mustang.
McGarrett almost smiled. His voice was a little more than mock-stern. “No. Just please, obey your standing orders,
Danno. Take care of your aunt today and
stay out of trouble. I’m
heading for the Ilikai. I’ll meet you
there tonight.” With a shaka wave, he
walked back to his car.
Dan started up the Mustang and waited until Steve’s vehicle
was well ahead of him before pulling away from the curb. He didn’t want his
friend to know where he was going next.
Steve might try to stop him from making one more closure to yesterday’s
events.
õõõõõ
At the risk of continued disobedience to his boss, Williams
drove to the Palace. Malia greeted him
with a warm smile and sympathetic comments that she was happy his aunt was
fine. Stopping by Duke’s desk, Dan
consulted with the only other detective in the room. Chin and Steve were at the Ilikai going over
last minute procedures for the conference tomorrow. Dan promised he would be back on the job by
then to fulfill his expected duties.
Finding Lukela was doing a report on the Gregson affair, Dan
leafed through the notes. In the
personal articles discovered at the beach house, he spotted a folded newspaper
article.
-------------
“A new
---------------
So,
that was how Walter had figured it all out.
Good old Mr. Turner’s ploy to impress his aunt,
had backfired. Hoping Clara nor the
well-intentioned Turner never found out about their
inadvertent role in the kidnapping, he placed it back in the stack of
evidence. Armed with this information,
it would have been an easy thing for Walter to discover Clara’s flight number
and do some skullduggery behind the scenes.
Simple for a cunning criminal mind.
The door slammed and Dan looked up to see McGarrett. At his boss’ stern glare, he knew he was
going to hear about his latest breech of discipline. With a silent nod, Steve motioned toward his
office and Dan followed.
“Danno, you are supposed to be
with Clara --“
“Steve, I am not going to sit around the Hilton watching my
aunt get her hair done! I have useful
things I can do.”
“Danno --“
“You wouldn’t condemn me to following her around the mall
and carrying her bags, would you, Steve?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Shaking his head, seemingly accepting the inevitable, McGarrett picked
up a folder and tossed it to the detective.
“Well, since you’re here, I’m going to put you to work.”
“I guess I deserve that,” Dan
countered with mock reluctance as he crossed the room.
“And finish before dinner,” he
warned. “Clara will have our heads if we
aren’t there on time.”
Turning at the door, Dan
grinned. “That’s one order I promise I
won’t disobey.”