TELLTALE ALOHA
By BH and GM
Three may keep a
secret, if two of them are dead.
Benjamin Franklin (1706
- 1790)
October 1973
NNN
“Danny Williams, are you trying to duck out on us?”
Knowing the blush rising up his face confirmed the gentle indictment, the Five-0 officer turned with a smile to confront his charming accuser. Dora Bergman, her slim frame draped in an elegant evening gown glittering with dark blue shimmers, instead of her usual nursing uniform, slipped an arm around his.
“Aren’t you the one who always gets after us for not getting enough sleep?” he countered in what he hoped was a pithy retort, instead of the clumsy repost it sounded like to him. The counter-question was appropriately accentuated by a yawn.
Both laughed at the perfect timing.
“Well, I
can’t let you leave with me being the only woman here with whom you haven’t
danced. Then, I wouldn’t think of keeping you from dreamland a moment longer,”
she smiled. “Especially after sacrificing so valiantly by
filling in for Steve this evening.”
“It IS a
worthy cause,” Dan admitted.
“Well,
you’re doing magnificently,” Dora proffered with a slight wink. “And you look
just adorable this evening – why your eyes match your tuxedo!”
He felt a
gentle burn come to his cheeks, but before he could respond to the flattery,
she added, “I dare say Steve would’ve shown up in traditional black.”
“Steve
did really want to be here,” he defended weakly despite the knowledge that he
did not have to make excuses for his friend to someone who knew them so well. An extended member of the Five-0 ohana -- one of the prettiest --
as a matter of fact.
A new
children’s clinic adjacent to Queen’s Hospital would normally have brought the
press-shy McGarrett out of the office in support of such a worthy cause, but
tonight’s dinner had interfered with an overlapping case he’d personally
tied-up in Kauai.
Steve’s
plane was due to touch down soon, but not soon enough. The boss considered the
second-in-command’s duties extending to charity events as well as criminal
cases. With as much good grace as possible, Williams donned his rarely-used,
baby blue tuxedo and came for the dry chicken, long speeches, photographs with
the right people, and sipped a glass of cola instead of indulging in the open
bar. He’d secretly patted himself on the back as he thought he’d done an
exemplary job and now, with Ten PM approaching, it was time to fetch Steve from
the airport, then go home.
Governor Jameson and Dr. and Mrs. Trent Overton – the organizers of the bash -- just finished a last pose for the photographer by the advertising poster at the door. When they drifted away, Dan had hoped to slip out unnoticed, but leave it to Dora to catch him in mid-escape.
“You
gonna dance with my wife, Danny? I’m getting too old to tango.” Niles Bergman, Coroner, ME and
physician-on-call to
Williams scoffed. “Eight! I’ll be jogging at six with Steve,” he countered without sympathy.
“Old folks need more sleep than the young,” Bergman countered with a straight face. “Do you good to suffer a little.”
“Dancing
with Dora does not fall into the category of suffering, Doc,” Williams called
over his shoulder as the charming Dora gave him an appreciative wink and led
him out onto the dance floor.
“Steve
was supposed to be here,” she told him in an aggravated tone as they maneuvered
past Ted Milton and his wife, and nodded to Governor Jameson and his wife,
Mary, also moving to the dance floor. “I wanted him to meet this lovely doctor who just arrived from
Hoping
the beginning of the fast swing number covered his groan,
the young detective felt he was doing more than his duty to his friend and
superior by filling in tonight. His appearance saved Steve from an infamous
set-up with one of Dora’s friends.
Deciding
to lead the conversation in a more comfortable direction, Williams inquired,
“How do you like working for Overton?”
“What I would imagine it’s like to be an assistant to a movie star. Work mingled with social occasions mingled with a lot of attention.” Mischievous, she grinned, “Or working for Steve McGarrett. You’re workaholics and perfectionists. Detectives and surgeons.”
“Not all
of us,” Dan defended as they coursed around the floor at a little faster pace
than most of the others, he noted. Dora was really into this energetic dancing.
No wonder the Doc needed a substitute once in a while!
“Mmmm,”
Her eyes narrowed as she penetrated him with a mock frown. “Do not exclude
yourself from that group, Danny Williams.”
“What? I
have a social life!”
“The last blind date I set you up with had other things to say when you ditched her – a pretty young nurse – to go help Steve on a stake out.”
Blind dates provided by Dora! He’d rather have an encounter with Pele – wait – that WAS the last blind date! Why did the Doc’s wife think she had to get him married off? His only consolation was that she targeted Steve even more persistently with set-up dates! Maybe that was the REAL reason McGarrett had conveniently ended up on another island tonight?
He was spared from more debate when the song ended. Best not to get involved with Dora’s history of matchmaking with the two bachelors of Five-0. Why was it happily married women wanted all the men they knew to be married? And why was each certain she would be the one to find the mythical golden match, he wondered as they headed back to join Doc Bergman.
“Only one
dance?” the Coroner teased when they returned. “Thought you’d
have more energy than that, Danny. Why aren’t you with a pretty date
tonight? You know Dora would’ve been happy to fix you up with one of her
nurses. From what I hear, they think you’re cute.”
Williams
flushed slightly at the tease, but the retort which sprang to mind about Mrs.
Bergman’s blind dates was not one he was willing to share with the lovely woman
just releasing his arm. Instead, he offered a silent, tight-eyed response aimed
at the physician as he verbally ignored the rib.
“Only one
dance – I have to pick up Steve at the air—” Five-0’s second-in-command gasped
slightly as he noticed the out-of-control tray of martini glasses careening
towards Dora. “Hey!” He shouted as he reflexively pushed forward and lifted his
arm to serve as an impromptu shield.
No one
else had time to do more than tense themselves in wait of what was to come. The
petite nurse hunched her shoulders ever so slightly as the glasses cascaded
down around, but not upon her. Dan’s arm took the brunt of the tumbling
beverages before they found their way onto the breast of Dan’s tuxedo and white
shirt, and then landing on the floor with a harsh, high-pitched crash.
“Oh, dear!” Mrs.
Bergman cried out as Williams released a pained gasp. With only a shaken glance
towards the flustered waiter, she immediately set about assessing her human
shield’s status. “Danny, are you okay?”
Before
the grimacing detective could respond, Doctor Bergman fired an angry salvo at
the tall, burn-skinned haole waiter. “What on EARTH is wrong with you, man!”
“
“Are you
sure?” were Dan’s first words as he ineffectively wiped at his shirt.
“I’m very
sorry, sir,” the man, some eight inches taller than Williams, mumbled
desperately as he nervously alternated between scanning the room and trying to
wipe the moisture from his victim’s arm.
“You
could’ve hurt somebody!” The medical examiner was not satisfied.
“It’s… it’s okay… I’m fine,” Dan insisted distractedly, now not
only tired, but decidedly uncomfortable as the wetness percolated across the
threads of his clothing and drew goose bumps onto his skin.
“What’s
your name?” Bergman demanded of the distressed man, whose eyes darted fearfully
towards the doctor.
“
By now,
several of the wait staff were present trying to
assist in the cleanup project. The more senior among them hovered solicitously
over Dan and Dora making ineffective, token gestures at helping set the mess
straight.
“I’ll get
you another jacket, sir!” The supervisor offered.
“Don’t
bother – I’ve gotta go anyway,” Williams glanced at his watch. “Steve’s plane
lands in twenty minutes.”
With a
promise that his tuxedo would be cleaned and delivered to the Palace still
echoing in his ears, Dan made it to the stairwell and descended to the garage
level. What an evening! Williams pondered as he trotted down the steps.
Enduring small talk with dozens of mostly older, married couples, fox-trotting
and waltzing through what seemed like hundreds of musical numbers with women of
varying degrees of grace… Picking at appetizers – some more appetizing than others
-- while politely dodging questions about the latest police cases to be
profiled in the news… And then to have the evening end with an embarrassing
accident which left him smelling like a drunk – yes, Steve definitely owed him
one! The door creaked as he pushed it open and reached for his car key.
“No!” Dan
spat suddenly and ran his hand over his side. It struck him that, just before
the accident, he’d surreptitiously transferred his keys to his tuxedo pocket in
eager anticipation of a hasty exit. He stopped dead in his tracks and took in a
breath to curse, but never had the chance.
A white
flash of light accompanied a sharp and stunning blow to the top of his head. He
rolled in blackness for an indefinite period before he became aware of
sensation again. A cool, smooth surface against his cheek…
pain… excruciating pain exploding through his eye sockets from the top of his
head.
Taking in
a slow breath, he tried to reorient himself to his circumstance, but before he
could will his eyes open, he was suddenly snatched from his resting place and
roughly lifted upward by someone who grunted with the effort. The detective
groaned as another agonizing lightening bolt of pain pushed its way through his
skull with his change of position. A gasp from his “handler” sluggishly
registered. Williams made an uncoordinated attempt to free himself (from what
or whom he had no clue), but did not have to spend much energy struggling
before he was dumped roughly on his side onto a lumpy, uneven surface. He
willed his eyes open to see the fuzzy image of a human form hovering over him.
The dim light behind the figure darkened the all-important features of the man,
who grunted as he raised his arms.
A
pressure wave of air preceded a loud, but dull KER-CHUNK. With his thoughts too
muddled to evaluate what was happening, Dan could only
absorb impressions through mostly uncooperative senses. His resting place…
ground? No -- he clawed and found his fist full of thick cloth. Before he could
dig further, the muffled roar of a car engine scattered his attention. An
obnoxious jerk of the vehicle being kicked from park into reverse too suddenly
caused the detective to roll forward, sending his mind reeling again with a
wave of nausea. He was in a car… the trunk… he’d been stuffed into the trunk of
a car… There was no time for him to be amazed or dismayed as his prison
accelerated backward, and then jumped forward, roughly pitching his helpless
form in whatever direction accommodated the laws of physics. The screeching of
tires beneath him registered in his consciousness for only a few moments before
the vehicle rounded a corner so sharply that Williams was slammed headfirst
into the side of the conveyance.
Dancing… the blue-haired woman seemed oblivious to the
fact that she kept stepping on his feet… Suddenly, Governor Jamison stood next
to him, a perfect, well-practiced smile plastered on his face despite the fact
that he was complaining quietly to Dan that Steve always seemed to luck out of
the painfully tedious events… A wine glass slipped from a tray to the floor…
then more of them, each cracking gently in half as they landed…
“Who’s your prime suspect, Williams?”
A puff of smoke wafted upward from the cigar stuffed into
the chubby face of his interrogator…. On the dance floor
again – this time with Mrs. Overton. His dance partner was suddenly
yanked from him and replaced by Doctor Bergman…
“I’ll have Dora set you up with Pele again… She’ll see
you married if it’s the last thing she does, Danny…”
An attractive young woman smiled at him from across the
room. Her earrings sparkling like stars framed her delicate features, but the
pleasant sight was quickly vanquished by the threatening expression of the
older man – her father, Dan suspected – gazing at him from her side. His watch…
seven o’clock… suddenly nine… then back to seven…
“Dance with my wife, Danny…”
Headache… throbbing… cold… the taste of... chicken? No…
Dan licked his lips… not chicken… gritty… dirt… he gave a dry spit. Dirt!
He had dirt in his mouth! And he was cold… soaking wet…
He lifted
his head and opened his eyes. The act made him dizzy, but he persisted. Bushes…
he was lying in big, leafy bushes. Strains of traffic and tropical music in the
distance further oriented him to the fact that he was somewhere in town.
Rising
gingerly to keep his head from falling off, he came to his knees, and blinked
to better focus. He appeared to be in one of the manicured garden beds which
lined the side of one of the narrow side streets near the big hotels in
It took
every bit of determination he could muster to bring himself to a standing
position. His eyes began to sting as moisture began to trickle into them. A
clumsy brush of his face with a dirty shirt sleeve revealed that the wetness
was blood. The detective suddenly added faintness to his list of symptoms, but
knew he needed to return to the scene of the crime before the trail drew cold.
Staggering from the entangling vines, he stumbled onto the narrow sidewalk. Dan
made an awkward attempt to smooth his decimated shirt as he steadied himself
for the trip back to the garage.
NNN
Steve
McGarrett glanced at his watch as he strolled across the tarmac towards the
concourse. The flight from Lihue had landed a few minutes late, so to not see
his second-in-command waiting for him as he disembarked from the aircraft
caught him slightly off guard. Knowing that Williams would be coming directly
from the hospital charity event, the head of Five-0 wondered what could’ve held
up his friend’s escape.
He
scanned the street as he approached the curb where three taxi cabs sat in wait
of passengers – no sign of Williams’ familiar Ford. Of course, there were a
dozen reasons why his detective might be late picking him up. His lip twitched
slightly with the thought that Dora Bergman might’ve actually cornered Danno
with another blind date. On the other hand, it was not like Williams to not at
least communicate a change of plan…
McGarrett’s
expression darkened marginally as he nodded to the cabbie in the first car and
hopped into the front passenger seat. But it would certainly have been easy for
Danno to lose track of time at the ball… a room full of fascinating… older,
nosy… boring… easy to forget the time…
“Yeah,
right,” McGarrett muttered.
“Sir?” The slight
Hawaiian behind the steering wheel queried.
The
question brought the detective back to the moment with a decision made. “To the
NNN
There
were still dozens of guests milling about the large ballroom, McGarrett noted
as he scanned the room for a familiar face (one in particular). With what he
hoped was a casually pleasant expression, he gave a short nod to Mrs. Overton
and three other guests in his line of sight before he continued his pan of the
room.
“Steve!
Don’t tell me – Danny was having such a good time that he picked you up and
insisted that the two of you return to the festivities.” The head of Five-0
spun to see the medical examiner, legs stretched to their limits in front of
him as he sat in one of the dining chairs which had been pushed against the
wall. The man’s tie was loose, and it was apparent that the party had gone on
too long for his taste.
McGarrett
grinned, but suddenly felt a notch more anxious – Danno HAD left the ball to
pick him up. “I’m sure that’s what WOULD have happened, Doc, if Danno had in
fact shown up at the airport.”
Bergman
frowned. “Hmmph, well he said—”
“Steve!
Did Danny come back with you?”
The
detective turned as Mrs. Bergman approached and warmly took his arm. He bent to
accept a kiss on the cheek as he responded. “Actually, Dora, I took a cab here
– Danno didn’t meet me.”
The
woman, dwarfed by the tall figure McGarrett posed, scrunched her brow. “I have
his car keys – one of the waiters brought them to me after the incident with
the drink tray. When he didn’t come right back, I assumed he must’ve had a
second set.”
“Incident?”
The
medical man rose, a tired, pained expression wandering across his features, as
he spoke. “We all got a little wet after some clumsy oaf of a waiter nearly
flattened Dora.”
“You
didn’t hear from Danny?” The nurse pressed as Steve gently pulled away from
her.
“No,” he
returned tersely. “I’m gonna go check the parking garage.”
“I’ll
grab his keys,” Dora supplied quickly as she turned and hurried to the coat
check room.
“He took
the stairs out.” Following the detective, the physician pointed to the nearby
stairwell despite the fact that McGarrett, knowing his friend would’ve chosen
the steps, was already headed in that direction.
Within a
minute, the two men stepped into the underground garage, where McGarrett’s eyes
were immediately drawn to a series of dark smears and one partial footprint
around a much larger deep burgundy stain. A tire track left a trail of crimson
from the puddle as well and diminished to invisibility within a few feet.
Instantly recognizing recently-spilled blood, his chest tightened as he placed
his hand on the doctor’s chest to wordlessly issue caution about where he
stepped.
“It’s
blood!” Bergman announced with surprise as the detective gingerly stepped
around several fat red drops and kneeled by the largest puddle about 18 inches
across. The lightest touch of its center with his pinky told him that whatever
transpired had happened at least an hour earlier.
“What
time did Danno leave?” Steve probed as his apprehension deepened. With one last
close-up look at the small, congealing pool on the floor, he rose to his feet.
The creak
of the door preceded the rushed entrance of Dora. “I’ve got the key--” Her
announcement was cut short when she saw the concerned expressions on the two
men.
After a
silent exchange with his wife, the physician responded to the detective’s
question. “It was about twenty minutes before your plane was supposed to land,
Steve – by Danny’s reckoning anyway.”
Mrs.
Bergman stepped from the shadow of her husband and gasped delicately as the
ill-boding pools came into her view. A brief analysis of the scene filled in
the holes for the nurse. “Steve, something’s happened to Danny – is that what
you’re thinking?” Dora’s voice wavered with emotion, causing the doctor to
place a light supportive hand on his wife’s shoulder.
Too
distracted by his own dire thoughts, he could offer no measure of comfort as he
studied the footprint which had tracked through the blood. He hated to say it,
but the evidence did point to foul play. His friend’s car was here about forty
paces away – his friend was not. The blood stains on the floor spoke of an
injury – accident or crime – McGarrett’s gut told him CRIME.
“What’s
going on?”
The voice
echoed through the cavernous space, startling the three people standing over
the blood-laced scene.
“Danny!”
Mrs.
Bergman’s scream elicited an involuntary shudder from McGarrett as his head
snapped to look at the woman before tracing visually back to the sound of the
first voice.
He gasped
at the almost macabre sight before adding his own shout. “Danno!”
Williams
stood, listing slightly, arms hanging casually at his sides, about twenty feet
away near one of the large cement pillars. Face streaked and mottled with
blood, his bedraggled condition was immediately obvious. His pale blue pants
and formerly white shirt were now striped in a near-psychedelic pattern of
reds, browns, and grays, with his collar and shoulders drizzled in a shade of
deep strawberry. His hair was dark and damp, clearly blood soaked.
The head
of Five-0 bolted towards his friend with the Bergmans trailing behind, and was
at his side in three strides. Fighting the urge to clutch for fear of touching
whatever wound was causing such bleeding, he gently
grabbed his friend’s arm.
“Danno! What
happened? Where are you hurt?” The questions poured out too quickly to be
answered, but McGarrett didn’t care – he was busy searching for the answers
himself.
Williams
unsteadily looked up at his boss. “As if you didn’t know,” he muttered before
squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a moment.
“Where is
this blood coming from?” The physician, now on the other side of his patient,
wondered as he gingerly probed his patient.
Dan
looked over slowly at the medical man. “What?”
“Where
are you hurt?” Bergman re-phrased the question. No answer was necessary for
seconds later, he came upon a two-inch gash on
Williams’ crown – had it not been bleeding so profusely, it might not have been
seen immediately through the tight curls which graced the detective’s head. As
it was, a few small rivers of crimson were escaping from the wound and taking
the paths of least resistance downward.
“Dora,
call an ambulance!”
Without
sparing a second to verbally acknowledge the command from her spouse, the
petite figure, still incongruously dressed in her evening gown, spun and
trotted back towards the stairwell, her black patent leather pumps tapping out
a quick-time echo in the garage.
“You
definitely owe me, Steve,” Dan looked back up at his taller friend, the act
causing him to stagger a bit. McGarrett and Bergman both grabbed the younger
detective to keep him from tipping over.
“Let’s
sit down here and wait for our ride,” the doctor insisted.
McGarrett
agreed with a distracted nod, and both men lowered the injured detective to the
floor and leaned him against the pillar. The movement caused Williams’ face to
twist in pain. He groaned, but seemed relieved to be sitting.
“Danno, what
happened?” Steve interrogated softly as Bergman pulled out his handkerchief and
whispered for McGarrett to hand over his as well. The detective quickly obeyed,
and the doctor took both cloths, folded and pressed them lightly to Dan’s crown
to try to stem the red tide. The injured man cried out and grimaced. For a few
seconds, his breathing revealed that the pain was sharp and intense.
Both of
the men aiding him unconsciously held their breath in sympathy until Williams’
own breathing and tense expression eased a bit, and he spoke. “I’m late picking
you up…”
Grateful
that his friend had the mental wherewithal to remember what should have
transpired on this evening, Steve squeezed the arm on
which he’d maintained a grip. “Don’t worry about that – what happened?”
Dora,
with a hotel security guard in tow, slipped up, and quietly moved to kneel
beside the injured cop as Dan closed his eyes for an extended blink. “It was
just like I knew it would be...”
“Exactly
WHAT was like you knew it would be?” Steve pressed as he decided at that moment
to check his friend’s pants pockets for his wallet and badge – not there.
Dan’s
brow furled. “Did you forget what I had to do this evening?”
“What?
Get mugged in a parking garage?”
“Don’t
worry, Steve. I chatted and danced and ate the crummy food and got my picture
taken with the governor and ummm… what’s that couple’s name?”
“Trent and
The sound
of the woman’s voice made the detective look up slowly into her eyes. “Dora…
you looked so pretty in your sparkly dress. If I hadn’t been up all night on a
case last night, I would’ve tangoed your pumps off.”
The nurse
smiled poignantly and cocked her head as she touched his cheek with only her
fingertips. Under her breath, she quickly supplied a piece of medical data to
her husband before she responded to her former-dance-partner-now-patient. “He’s
shocky. It’s okay, sweetie – now tell us – how did you come to be hurt?”
Confusion
washed over Williams’ face. “I’m hurt?”
Steve’s
chest tightened with the revelation that his friend did not know he was
injured. He sighed and spoke up. “Yes, aikane, it looks like somebody got the
drop on you when you stepped into the garage.”
Dan wore
an intent expression as he listened to the possible explanation, and then
looked down in concentration for several seconds before lethargically
responding. “I’m sorry I’m late picking you up.”
The sound
of a siren announced the approach of the ambulance. Desperate to get SOME clue
from Williams, McGarrett tried another tack. “Danno – you didn’t start out
late. What made you late?”
“The car
ride I guess…” Dan closed his eyes. “My head…”
The
doctor lifted the double handkerchief to show the two people crouched there
with him – it was drenched. Dora quickly pulled a small pack of travel tissues
from her purse and handed it to her husband as he reassured his patient. “You
got a hole in the top of your head, Danny. We’re gonna go to the hospital now
and get it stitched up.”
“Hmmm,”
Williams did not open his eyes. “Sorry, Steve… I really wanted… to be on… on
time…”
The
ambulance tires screeched as it rounded the corner, and McGarrett stood to make
sure they saw where to stop as he told the Bergmans that he would remain here
on the scene until he was satisfied that any collectable evidence was gathered
and catalogued. It was clear that his second-in-command was in no condition to
answer questions at that moment.
As the
attendants lifted the unresponsive detective onto the stretcher, the head of
Five-0 put a hand on Bergman’s shoulder. “What do ya think, Doc?”
“I think
we need to get him x-rayed and sewn up before I tell you what I think,” the
doctor breathed as he frowned at the freshly sopping, and rapidly
disintegrating tissue bundle. “Leave it to Danny to get me on the job at a
dance.”
NNN
Arriving at the Palace straight from the hospital,
McGarrett was a little startled to see the staff already in place and hard at
work. A glance at Jenny’s clock as he paused at her desk told him he was far
later than expected. Time had a fluid, displaced-with-reality quality within
the confines of the hospital – within the stressful anxiety of his emotions
when one of his guys was a patient – when Danno was there.
Jenny handed him a pile of memos and envelopes.
“How’s Danny?” she asked brightly, as if knowing the answer.
The chief prided himself on the ability to
maintain a balanced demeanor in nearly every circumstance. Ms. Sherman, though,
knew him well, and would pick up even the most subtle signs if he was consumed
with preoccupied distress about his youngest detective. When he walked in the
door, no doubt, she had already read his countenance, his gait, his manner, and
concluded that their missing colleague was much improved.
“He’s doing pretty well considering – stable all
night,” he smiled despite the guarded instincts. Danno was doing much better than last night. “Doc says to give him a few
more hours of sleep before...” McGarrett let his voice trail off as he
hesitated – it struck him that the physician’s phraseology made it obvious that
the head of Five-0 was hovering at the hospital like a mother hen.
Jenny didn’t need to hear the rest of Bergman’s
admonition – she knew. “Great,” she returned his smile. “It’s never the same
without him around.”
“No, it’s not.”
McGarrett agreed with a grateful squeeze of the petite woman’s shoulder
before he began to leaf through the messages and mail. Glancing around, he
noted Kokua in his cubicle and Kelly absent. The boss approached the newest
detective’s desk. “Ben, you’ll have to juggle Danno’s load with yours for a few
days.”
“Sure,” Ben nodded, holding up a file folder. “Already handling the dock extortion case. Chin took off
just little while ago to interview someone out at
“Great.”
McGarrett turned back toward his office. “Jenny, get a hold of Duke and
have him come over.”
“Will do.”
“I need to go over the HPD overnights for this
week. You still have them?”
“Just about to file them,” she told him and
reached to exactly the right pile behind her, then handed them to the boss.
Closing his door when he entered his own office,
McGarrett tossed the documents in hand onto the desk and stood there sorting
through the morning paperwork already thick in the IN Box. Thumbing quickly to
the overnight HPD activity summaries, he grabbed the thin stack. Circulating
around the desk, he opened up the lanai doors and leaned against the doorframe
as he read over the crime data for the night before.
Grimacing, he scanned the standard police language
report of Danno’s mugging the night before. He had read such familiar documents
hundreds of times, but knowing it was his friend’s name here in the black and
white report made his stomach ripple. It was so clinical and removed from the
anxiety of last night when he
knew his friend was unexplainably missing; the anguish when Danno showed up in
that garage bleeding and battered. The officer who wrote the report stated that
the victim was “not useful” in giving evidence against his attacker – a
suspected car thief!
With a snarl, McGarrett muttered defenses for his
friend. “Danno was swimming in blood and a concussion – how useful could ANYONE
be!”
Working himself into ill temper, he scanned the
reports and was irritated he did not find what he wanted. More
evidence of the heinous car thief who had assaulted his friend. There
were no similar car thefts at that hotel for the entire week, and only three
others in
A strong knock at the door (one that might have
followed lighter knocks, but he hadn’t really been paying much attention),
urged him to bid the guest inside. Sergeant Duke Lukela entered and gave a nod
of greeting, then immediately commented he was pleased to hear Danny was doing
well. It was always good to see his old friend, but McGarrett felt bolstered at
the arrival of Lukela at such a frustrating moment.
“Me too, Duke. Lucky thing he’s going to be all
right.” He waved the reports and took a
seat at one of the white leather chairs in front of his desk, inviting the
Sergeant to sit next to him. “I’ve been going over the HPD back logs for the
last week. They’re not satisfactory. I can’t find a similar MO for Danno’s
attack last night. I want you to dig around, Duke, gather information, get some
data on this.”
Lukela’s face did not alter expression. “You know,
Steve, HPD is handling this as a car theft gone wrong. If it wasn’t for Doctor
Overton’s missing car, they’d be considering this a mugging.”
“I know.”
At the curt reply, Lukela gave a slow nod. “Danny
has a lot of friends on the force, Steve, you know that –“
An even edgier, terse bite. “Yeah, I know.”
The uniformed policeman bit his lip. “Steve,
they’re going to take care of this. Danny’s one of their own.”
“He’s one of MY own!” McGarrett snapped back
sharply. “And I want to take care of this!”
Hearing the echo of his shout ring in his ears, he took a breath and was
grateful Lukela knew him well enough to not be surprised or disturbed at such
an outburst. “Duke, I can’t officially put the resources of Five-0 on a
mugging, even if it was one of my officers. Nor do I want to let anyone in HPD
think I lack confidence in their investigative abilities. I don’t.”
Lukela almost smiled. “But this is Danny we’re
talking about.”
“Yeah, this is Danno. And you know – you know --”
“I know you don’t have to say any more,” the
officer nodded. “I understand. None of the guys, or Chief Grover, will ever
know.”
McGarrett patted his shoulder in gratitude. “Mahalo, my friend.”
NNN
“How do you feel?” From the faint grimace and
Dan’s refusal / inability to open his eyes, Steve knew that the answer was not
good. Still, standing at his friend’s bedside the
afternoon after the mysterious incident, the question seemed to be the best ice
breaker.
“Headache,” Williams answered softly in a hoarse
voice. A thick bandage on the crown of his head was secured in place by gauze,
which was looped a dozen times around his head under his chin. It was obvious
that someone in the wee hours had attempted to clean the copious amount of
blood from the patient, but he or she had not been completely successful. Those
curls not obscured by the over-sized bandage were, for the most part, clear of
clot debris, but dark brown Betadine Disinfectant stained his normally
sandy-colored hair. His face and neck still bore numerous streaks and smudges
of dirt and blood.
McGarrett frowned in sympathy and glimpsed back at
Chin Ho Kelly and Ben Kokua. The two Five-0 detectives exchanged pained glances
with their boss and then each other – there wasn’t much they could do except commiserate.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Doc says your
skull’s not broken. A concussion and complimentary nasty gash look to be the
worst of it,” the head of Five-0 offered.
The comment caused Williams’ brow to furl
slightly. Apparently digesting the information, he remained silent for a few
seconds before he swallowed and spoke. “Where am I?”
His concern flashed considering that his younger
officer was not recollecting the violent incident. “
Another delay was long enough that Steve began to
wonder whether his friend had drifted back to sleep, but finally, Dan reacted.
Eyes still not open, he weakly cleared his throat. “Hmmm, date gone bad?”
The head of Five-0 grinned and shared a pleased
glance with the two snickering detectives behind him. It was encouraging to see
Williams’ sense of humor coming through even in his discomfort.
“No – that was last month when Dora set you up
with that little ICU nurse.”
The prone form took in a slightly deeper breath
and seemed to hold it for a few seconds before a replied uncertainly. “Dora…
the dance… was last night?”
McGarrett released a silent sigh of relief. His
second-in-command might be confused and disoriented at the moment (and who
wouldn’t be!), but at least his faculties did not seem permanently damaged.
“Yeah, Danno – the fundraiser was last night at the
More silence ensued for several seconds before
Dan’s expression grew into one of painful concentration. “My keys… left my
keys… then…” Slowly he opened his eyes and swallowed as he looked up into the
intense blue eyes studying him. “I… someone… there was a car….”
Steve nodded slowly in encouragement, and
whispered loudly, “Yes, Danno, go on.”
Williams hesitated as if reviewing his memory one
last time before making a report. “I was in the trunk… then I woke up… in a
bush.” His face grew troubled as he let his eyelids close again. “A bush… I was
on my way to the airport… what happened?”
Chin and Ben took a couple steps closer to their
colleague’s bedside as McGarrett explained. “All indications are that you had
the bad luck to walk into a car theft in progress. Trent Overton’s Cadillac was
stolen from the garage. It had been parked right where you left a decent-sized
puddle of blood.”
“A car thief,” Dan groaned.
The Chinese detective nodded and spoke up. “Car’s
still missing.”
“Along with your wallet,” Ben added.
With that news, after a brief delay, Williams
flinched slightly. “I was mugged?”
McGarrett responded slowly. “That is the scenario
which fits what facts we have.”
Dan sighed. “Embarrassing.”
With a gentle pat on the patient’s arm, Steve
reassured his friend, “It could’ve been a lot worse, my friend.”
Williams’ expression relaxed marginally, and the
detectives standing around his bedside knew that he had dozed off. The head of
Five-0 offered a small hint of a thin smile, but his eyes held the gravity of
his feeling. “You could’ve been killed.”
NNN
“Why do you need more blood?” Dan complained as he
averted his eyes from the sight of the needle pushing through the skin in the
crook of his arm.
Bergman continued to focus on the operation and
kept his head tilted backward slightly so as to better see through the
spectacles which had slipped closer to the tip of his nose. “Hush,” he
whispered.
McGarrett, who’d stepped back a few paces from the
bed to allow access to the patient, now strolled slowly to the other side of
the bed and made eye contact with his friend. Nothing was said but the silent
conversation conveyed the fact that Steve was still concerned about Williams’
condition. Dan offered a grin of reassurance just before the physician
distractedly changed the subject.
“So have you got that waiter on your list of
suspects?”
Still smiling, Williams nodded slightly and spoke
up despite the fact that he knew the question was directed at his boss. “Yeah, Doc – and the baker and the candlestick maker.”
Amusement flashed across McGarrett’s expression
before he added a frown to it. “What about the butcher?”
“Too obvious,” Dan shrugged.
Bergman tossed a slightly annoyed glance at each
man as he pressed a cotton ball to his patient’s arm. “So that’s how you guys
solve crimes. All this time, I thought you used things like motive and
opportunity. That waiter had both, ya know.”
The head of Five-0 sighed. “Doc, leave the
investigating to me – you’re a witness here.”
“Hmmm, well a medical examiner friend of mine in
“He’s probably not surrounded by the detective
talent that you are,” Williams offered as he let the physician direct his hand
to press against the cotton ball on his arm.
The medical man’s lip twitched slightly as he
pulled a bandage from its wrapper. “I don’t know, Danny – if the waiter isn’t
above the candlestick maker on your list…”
McGarrett shook his head slightly and sighed. “The
waiter IS on the list, Doc. Now what’s the verdict with Danno?”
Bergman let his eyes quickly shoot to both
detectives before they refocused on the bandaging operation. “Another day here
as my guest and I think he’ll be good to go home to rest.”
Dan frowned. “What’s wrong with today? I’ve been
here three days already – I’m feeling fine.”
“Leave the medical decisions to ME, Detective
Williams,” the physician intoned with evil satisfaction before he added, “And
when I send you home, I don’t mean that you hop into your Mustang and drive to
the Palace! You’re going to be feeling pretty weak and tired for the next
several days.”
“I don’t drive the Mustang to work,” Dan defended.
McGarrett broke in with a thin smile leveled at
his bed-ridden friend, “Don’t worry, Doc – Danno will not be driving anywhere.”
With a skeptical humph, Bergman stuffed the
sensitive end of his stethoscope into the breast pocket of his white jacket,
and plod from the room. “Yeah, and I’m gonna win the Hawaiian Surf Championship
this year.”
The door wafted shut gently behind the physician,
leaving the two men to muse in silence for several seconds before McGarrett
broached a subject again. “Danno, any more thoughts on who
rang your bell the other night?”
With a mildly disheartened shake of his head, the
patient admitted he’d had no new recollections or sudden revelations. “Most of
my memories of that evening are from before I left the dance. The rest are just
fuzzy bits and images… and perceptions.”
“What do you mean perceptions?”
Williams sighed and offered a frown as his gaze
turned to the view out the window. “Sensations… pain… smells… cement… blood…
and something sweet – like a spice or something. I wish I could give you
something more to go on. I’m… I’m drawing a blank on everything else.”
Frustration was evident in Dan’s voice, and Steve moved to reassure his friend.
“Give it a little time – you may remember
something else.”
“Is HPD still calling it a car theft interrupted?”
The Five-0 chief canted his head slightly in
confirmation. “Yes, but I’m not convinced all the facts are in.”
A small sense of foreboding crept into Williams’
sense of wellbeing as he slowly turned to study his friend. Steve had a history
of – to put it euphemistically -- aggressively looking out for Dan’s welfare.
The man was almost violent in his protectiveness when Williams was hurt or
incapacitated. This fact was a source of occasional embarrassment to the
younger detective, but simultaneously, it was a touching tribute to his value
to the Five-0 chief. With this knowledge warming his heart, Williams silently
endured any teasing which resulted from his favored status with
How to put it, Dan pondered for a few seconds
before he made the cautious inquiry. “You’re not… making any waves over this
with HPD, are you, Steve?”
Knowing the point at which his protégé was
driving, McGarrett immediately (too immediately Dan thought) and tersely denied
active investigative involvement. “HPD is handling it,” he snapped as he
scrutinized Williams’ suspicious expression. The discerning eyes forced him to
look down casually at his watch. “I hate to be accused and run, but nobody’s
minding the store.”
A crooked smile brushed across the patient’s face.
The thought that nobody was minding the boss chased across his mind as his
friend bid him a quick aloha and strode from the room with a promise to stop by
later.
“Mahalo, Steve,” Dan offered softly to the door
before he let his head settle back onto the pillow.
NNN
Taking the turn tight, compensating
for the skid of the heavy vehicle, Dan twisted the wheel to the right, then quickly left as the bulky LTD slid on the loose, red
dirt of the cliff road. Chasing the robbery suspect up the snaking highway
along
In the back of his mind, the detective realized that he would soon be standing before the desk of his boss, who was going to be very unhappy with him for jumping into the fray of a high-speed action only three days after his release from the hospital. McGarrett had given his second-in-command approval to come to the office on this morning, but Dan knew that his activities would’ve been restricted. He’d worry about that later – now -- as his sedan took over the lead with four HPD cars trailing behind, he was bent on capturing the crazy suspect. Taillights in sight, Williams was not going to let a criminal give him the slip. Particularly not behind the wheel.
At first wishing he was in the Mustang for the superior maneuverability in the tight corners, and the power-muscle engine that could outdistance any other car on the island, now he was glad he was using the company car as he bottomed out on an outcropping of volcanic stone. Wincing, he pushed the accelerator, closing the distance in the red dust as the Impala careened, then slid, down slope toward a deserted beach.
Familiar with the surf area, Dan slowed as the narrow dirt road sharply turned inland. The criminal, obviously not knowing the land as well as his pursuer, went into the turn too fast and wide. The Chevy skimmed on the gravelly path, whipping around in a sudden one-sixty-degree spin that clipped the front end of the LTD. The Chevy plunged down the rough lava rocks to land with a jarring crash at the rocky tide-line twenty feet below.
Twisting the wheel in his hands with speed quicker than mind or eye, Williams barely countered the reckless driving of the criminal by gyrating the big car, trying to stay on the path. Not quite successful, Williams skidded down to crash the rear end into the Impala. As soon as the LTD rocked to a stop, the officer held onto his ringing head for a moment, then stumbled out, aware there was a dangerous suspect on the loose and that he had no time to coddle his roaring headache and throbbing skull. Pausing on the ledge, Dan dizzily / blearily, searched for the suspect, waiting to see if he survived, and if the car would explode. Surprisingly, the criminal seemed only slightly dazed as he crawled out of the car window. Glancing up at his pursuer, the man then dashed across the rocks in another attempt to escape.
“What is wrong with you?” Dan
muttered as he jumped down to the lava outcroppings and in an uncoordinated
dash followed across the jagged landscape. His gait a little wo
The suspect was stumbling in and out of the surf, losing his lead quickly. Continually turning around to check on the detective, the criminal finally came to a stop. When the desperate man pulled a pistol from his pocket, Dan had a second of indecision, but his legs kept going, making the commitment almost, it seemed, without the permission of his brain. He plunged ahead, and the pistol discharged as Williams tackled the man, throwing them both into the heavy, rock-lined waves.
Fighting the surf, the lava, the man for possession of the weapon, Williams became a tangle of energized survival-focus as he managed to get the criminal in a firm hold and throw him against the rocky shore. Exhausted, he leaned against the man until two HPD officers joined the aftermath and cuffed the robber.
NNN
As soon as he heard the outer
office door slam shut – a sound he had been anticipating for a while –
McGarrett came to his feet and strode across the room. His office door had been
left open so he would know the moment his detective returned. Accounts of
Williams’ morning exploits still were peppering the radio, and McGarrett had simmered, vacillating between relief and
irritation for the last few hours.
The head of Five-0 learned that Williams had joined HPD in pursuit of the robbery suspect when he arrived, after nine AM, from a breakfast meeting with the Governor. As details came in, the boss’s anxiety grew. While HPD commentary was nothing but glowing with admiration for the Five-0 detectives’ work, McGarrett had other adjectives in mind.
Confronting Williams as the younger detective ambled through the office, McGarrett’s fluctuation of emotions solidified. His officer was here; a bit worn looking and the hair still looked damp. A few scrapes, Steve noted, but thankfully no bullet wounds – he’d heard about the pistol. There was a triumphant air about Danno which spoke to pride in his work, which the head of Five-0 would happily share under other circumstances. Right now, concern outweighed every other consideration.
Ben and Chin emerged from their
cubicles to congratulate the youngest officer. Jenny
shook her head and scolded him for the reckless behavior even as she welcomed
him with a hug. After modestly accepting the general celebratory comments, Dan
greeted him with a smile that faded slowly as he recognized that his prediction
about his boss’s displeasure had come to pass.
“Just
when did you decide your life was worth risking for the likes of a robbery
suspect?” McGarrett whipped out sharply.
The tone was as harsh as he felt
inside – raw from the echo of fear as he learned the
details of the chase. It was less than a week earlier that Danno had staggered
into the parking garage, incoherent and bleeding profusely. With a few days in
the hospital and a few more at home under his belt, Williams had grown
restless. So, on this day, Steve had agreed to allow his detective to come in
to work on the condition that he take it easy! A
high-speed chase and the dangerous foot pursuit of an armed suspect was not
what the doctor (or
“And
don’t get me started about the fact that your car is trashed! And you know that
could have been you at the bottom of that cliff! AND he had a gun, Danno, didn’t you think
about that?”
Williams’
expression crumpled from pride to a vague uneasiness. “I didn’t expect him to
be so crazy,” he defended.
“So you followed his lead? That
justifies your actions?” he fired back. “He was wanted
for robbery and you were willing to go over a cliff after him!”
Aware his
other detectives had disappeared and Jenny was buried in a phone conversation,
McGarrett took a step back and a deep breath. The echo of his shouts seemed to
ring in the suddenly uncomfortable atmosphere. Knowing it was wrong to berate
his second-in-command in front of the rest of the staff, Steve tried to speak a
little more quietly, though no less emphatically. “You could have been
killed this morning.”
Not cowed, Williams stared at him in a solid refusal to give ground. “I was doing my job,” he reminded evenly.
“Doing
your job? You just got out of the hospital! You should NOT have engaged!” Realizing that his intensity and volume had
begun to climb again, McGarrett took in yet another slow breath. He stood there
for a few moments studying Williams’ strained countenance as he assessed the
best course of action. The head of Five-0 was annoyed with himself for not
having expected that his detective would leap back to work with everything he
had at his earliest opportunity. Danno did know better, but, Steve knew, it was
almost not in his friend’s makeup to DO better.
With a
sigh, McGarrett finally responded, unable to mellow his tone more than
marginally. “The question becomes how do I keep you out of trouble?”
Suddenly
fearing that his boss would beach him again, Dan began to slowly shake his
head, but before he could say anything appeasing, Jenny rose and stepped toward
the Five-0 chief.
“Boss,
HPD has requested the presence of Five-0 at a jewelry store break-in. Somebody left a finger in the ring case.”
“A finger? You mean
a real human finger?” McGarrett blinked.
“Dispatch
didn’t say,” the secretary shrugged slightly as she handed her boss the slip of
paper on which she’d jotted the address.
“Sounds
like a Halloween prank,” Five-0’s second-in-command volunteered, relieved to
have the focus of conversation shift away from him.
“Yeeesss,
Danno, it does,” McGarrett intoned softly as he returned his gaze to his
second-in-command.
Suddenly
wary, Williams looked slowly up into his boss’s eyes as the taller detective
announced, “Danno will take care of it.”
“Me?” he
gasped, appalled at the task. “A finger? It’s a
joke! A prank!”
“It IS
that time of year, but find out for sure,” McGarrett ordered.
“Why are
we rolling on a routine incident like this at all?” Dan argued.
“Danno,
you know as well as I do that when HPD requests assistance, we’re bound to
respond. We’ll find out the twist soon enough. Have Ben drive you since your
car is no doubt in the shop.”
“Aww,
Steve, please—”
The lead
detective held up his hand. “On the other hand, maybe I should send you over to
the hospital and have Bergman check you out after your morning of mayhem.”
The
warning flashed in Steve’s eyes, and Dan knew the man was not bluffing. With a
reluctant huff, he muttered an acceptance of the assignment and left with the
Samoan detective on his heels.
Feeling
the frosty atmosphere from the rest of the staff – that they considered his
loss of his temper with Williams unacceptable – McGarrett retreated to his
office, slamming the door closed – an obvious statement on the whole
unsatisfactory morning.
Williams’
plodded desultorily out of the Palace to the nearest Five-0 vehicle in the
parking lot, and slumped into the LTD. He sat there for several moments,
staring at the wheel, before he realized he did not have a key. This was not
his company car. Sheepishly glancing out the window, he noted Ben expectantly
standing next to the vehicle, dangling his car keys by his index finger.
Glumly,
Williams scooted across the seat and shifted to keep his sore right shoulder –
a minor injury from this morning that he was not going to admit to anyone! -- off the door. Irritated at McGarrett’s overprotective
attitude, loud vocal castigation in front of the rest of the staff, and
punishment / assignment, he brooded all the way to
NNN
Hakima’s Jewelry was wedged in one
of the small, unevenly distributed buildings under the shady trees of
International Marketplace. Williams had never really noticed it before, but he
was familiar with the area. The Marketplace was in the midst of
Two HPD patrolmen
were placating an agitated shop keeper when the detectives arrived at the store
front. Officers Tim Ono and Ted Nuuanu were well known to the Five-0
detectives. They took a moment to cover the amenities with Mr. Hardy Locke, the
owner, and then immediately turned their attention to the specifics of the
crime.
“Mr. Locke found a
finger in one of his jewelry cases over here,” Nuuanu explained as he guided the group into
the building and pointed to the left.
Trailing
behind, Dan held his breath as the Samoan/Hawaiian Ono, who was taller and
broader than Ben, barely cleared the aisle between the fragile glass cases.
“What was
taken?” Ben asked as he stooped before the glass counter to examine the scene.
“Nuthin’”
Ono offered seriously. “They just gave him the finger.”
The other
three officers all glanced at their colleague, but detected no outward sign of
mirth at the situation. Any of the men might have had a witty rejoinder to
offer, but the nervous owner hovered nearby and forced the law enforcement
representatives to move along with the inquiry.
Williams
slowly moved around to the employee side of the case before he kneeled and
peered into the case. Amid a sea of sparkling bracelets resting on cotton-candy
pink velvet, was a jaggedly severed finger sporting a classy, impressive ring
with a red stone. The pink nail polish brushed across the well-manicured nail
left little doubt that the digit had belonged to a female in life. His
disgruntlement over the assignment was suddenly overshadowed by the sensation
of familiarity which overcame him. Not immediately able to pinpoint the reason,
he frowned slightly and cocked his head to the left to study the finger’s
position from a different angle.
The
delicate finger was bent naturally at the knuckle, but its waxy white pallor
and the small ring of crimson moisture which had apparently drained from it
made the scene incongruously grizzly. But there was something else… Dan could
not quite identify it… He almost jumped when Ben’s voice broke his reverie.
“So, Ono, why we here?” The Samoan detective, obviously not as intrigued by the
finger as the other Five-0 officer, queried in pigeon English as he rose. Of
course, the question was a valid one – and Williams was mildly chagrinned that
he’d forgotten to ask before that point. Without indication of a more complex
case, a human body part would not necessitate the involvement of
Ted
Nuuanu spoke up in Ono’s place as he retrieved an envelope, already sandwiched
in a handkerchief, from a neighboring countertop. “Didn’t Dispatch tell you?”
Kokua
didn’t answer as looked at read the name of the address. “
“Has it
been opened?” Williams wondered as he gingerly accepted the item and placed it
on the counter. The answer was obvious as he flipped it over to see an unbroken
seal, but Ono responded anyway. “Nope – we weren’t sure if it was a good idea.”
Ben
volunteered his pen as Dan used the unarmed end of it to slip under the fold of
the envelope while holding it still with the handkerchief. The officers
gathered around Williams, leaving the slight, Haole owner of the establishment
standing on his toes at the back with an unsatisfactory view.
With brow
furled slightly, Dan read what turned out to be a note, written in block
letters.
“A severed finger points the way…
To what you ask, and this I’ll say.
A buried sin and no
confession…
Leaves the
sinner sans transgression.”
Several
seconds of silence ensued as the officers digested the poem. Finally, Ono
voiced the first question. “What does THAT mean? Sand trans…”
Dan
didn’t look up from the note as he responded. “Not sand – sans – it means
without… Without transgression… without wrongdoing…”
Ben
looked at the shorter Five-0 detective. “It was addressed to Five-0 – looks
like this guy wants to play a game with us.”
“Hmmm,
yeah,” Williams agreed absentmindedly as he moved back to his original kneeling
position and began to study the finger again. What was it about this finger
which gave him the sense he was on the verge of remembering something? ”Which
case did this ring come from?”
Ono responded, “Man says it not his merchandise.”
“Interesting,” Dan mused. “Mr. Locke, can you please describe what happened this morning.”
“I already told the officers—”
“I know, but sometimes little details come to light when you go over it again,” he prompted in a tone that brooked no wimpy refusals.
The man took a deep breath and related he had come to work at the usual time, preparing to open the store at ten AM. He noticed the envelope addressed to Five-0 on the counter, but that in itself did not alarm him. He had not closed the previous evening – the manager did – so as always, he took a quick look over the cases to see what had been purchased the night before.
“That is always quicker than checking the receipts. I was horrified to – well – at first I didn’t realize it was a real finger. I thought it was a Halloween prank. I almost TOUCHED it,” he squealed, “then stopped when I saw the—the blood!”
“Yes. Now you say you did not touch it?”
“No!”
“And you didn’t move it—”
“Absolutely not! As soon as I realized what it was I called the police!”
Ben bent
over again and studied the ring with interest. “You think it’s real or a fake?”
“The finger?” Locke
blinked.
“The
ring,” Ben growled.
“I didn’t
pull out my jeweler’s loop and study it!” The little man’s voice rose to an
almost girlish crescendo.
Dan,
keeping an even, but firm tenor to his own voice, asked with the air of a
command, “Well can you bend down here and give us your professional opinion
now? That is unless you don’t think you can tell.” He added the last phrase
hoping that the man’s sense of pride would override his queasiness with the
circumstance.
The
tactic worked as the jewelry straightened and his face flushed. “I may not even
need a loop!” He snapped as he bent over next to Five-0’s second-in-command,
who gently tugged the velvet around. The action dragged the entire selection of
bracelets along with the finger several inches closer to the man’s face. With a
distasteful expression, Locke drew to within inches of the ring for several
seconds. Without warning, he jerked away, pulled a jeweler’s loop from his pocket,
and immediately stuck his head back into the case with the magnifier applied to
his eye. After few more seconds of twisted-face analysis, the man quickly
pulled away and stood. Dan followed suit, and with a brief anticipatory glance
in Kokua’s direction, he re-focused on the jeweler, who wiped the beads of
perspiration from his brow and then began to clean the lens of his loop with
the same handkerchief.
“Well,
Mr. Locke?” Dan pressed.
“The
stone is a lovely quality aquamarine – with the setting, it’s worth
approximately two thousand dollars,” the man announced with a defiant glance at
the young detective in charge of the scene.
“Thank
you.” Williams nodded for Ono to take
him away as he bent down beside the finger again, studying the still-handkerchiefed
note in his hand as he stooped. His eyes slipped back to the finger, where they
rested as he wondered what about the disembodied member gave him this
sensation. With the blood gone, it was hard to tell its owner’s race. Clearly,
the finger was from a petite female, but there was not enough there for Dan to
be certain that it belonged to anyone he might know. The nail polish… well, as
much as he might try to be attentive to such details while out on a date, he
couldn’t honestly say that he could recall a specific color of polish. Women had just too many
concurrent shades of gray (or pink) for a guy to be able to discern between
them easily. No… not the nails… Then what?
“Danny!”
Ben’s call startled Five-0’s second-in-command, and he snapped his head up to
look into his colleague’s eyes.
A hint of
amusement, unclear to Dan, flickered across the Samoan detective’s expression
as he explained the reason for his behest. “I said we’ve got another one,
bruddah!”
Williams
blinked. “Another…” The implication suddenly struck him, and he rose quickly, eyes growing wide. “Where?”
Ted
pointed out the doorway. “Call just came in -- Tom’s Sandals – on the Kuhio
side of the Marketplace!”
With a
brief visual exchange, the two Five-0 men trotted out the door, leaving
instructions to the patrolmen to stay until the lab techs did their work.
NNN
Tom’s Sandals was at the back of
International Marketplace on the less traveled, but still busy,
When
Williams and Kokua entered the narrow shop, Dan noted and considered that
perhaps sandals were not such a hot commodity since Tom had branched out to
include a wide variety of sneakers and slippers. He gave the briefest of nods
to the very young patrolman who’d been the first on the scene. The officer’s
relieved reaction alerted the thin, slightly-hunched, balding man to their
presence. He began his verbal attack almost instantly.
“Hey, you
guys got to do something with the riff raff in this town!” He nearly shouted.
“You gotta catch whoever did this! Just
scared ten years out of a gramma and her granddaughter from
“All
right,” Kokua barked loud enough for the stern command to echo. “We get the
picture. Tell us what happened.”
The man
launched into the colorful and long story of the woman and girl wanting to buy
the matching sandals they’d seen on display as they entered. As the older lady
picked up the sample, five toes fell onto the floor! Dan studied the scene in question. Overturned
shoeboxes, display shoes and chairs sideways on the floor indicated the chaos
resulting from the macabre discovery. Remarkably, the toes – small and at first
looking like pebbles – were visible on the tile, apparently undamaged (as
undamaged as toes could be considered when not attached to a living creature)
by the trampling stampede to flee the store.
Ben asked, “So where the lady go?”
“Running back to her hotel I guess,” snapped the little man. “Gonna tell everybody in the tour group! I am outta business thanks to some wise acre!”
Dan
shared a disgruntled look of irritation with Ben. They would have to track down
the other witnesses somewhere in the ocean of hotels in
“You let
her get away?” Ben accused.
“Like I
could stop her?”
The tall
Samoan turned to the HPD officer and commanded, “Get descriptions – anything you
can get on them – from… from Tom here. I’ll call for a lab team.”
The young
man nodded, but volunteered, “I already called it in, sir.”
Ben gave
a pat of approval on the officer’s shoulder before he turned to see Williams
standing near the cluster of toes, but looking higher at the nearest display
stand. He didn’t need to ask why as he moved closer to his friend – neatly
propped in front of a flower-adorned flip flop, was an envelope addressed to
Using the
same technique he’d used only minutes earlier, Dan slid the piece of notebook
paper from the envelope and read the note out loud. “Now who on earth will take the heat… when the cops are handed these
toes with no feet?”
Both
detectives stared at the words for several seconds before looking at each
other. Grimacing, Dan finally spoke. “It may be a prank, but it’s felonious
one.”
Ben
nodded and opened his mouth to agree before his expression soured further and
he headed towards the door. “Hey! Out!”
Williams
turned to see the two people he recognized as reporters squeezing together into
the shop.
Not
willing to back down so easily, the attractive, blonde woman stood her ground. “Ah-ha! The Five-0 boys are here – that means that there IS
something to the bizarre poems we received in this morning!”
Williams
groaned internally – this psycho had involved the press. Now it was personal!
“There’s
no trouble here!” Tom announced with a cheerful nervousness. “The police wear
sandals too you know!”
Both detectives
moved to intercept the woman and her photographer as Dan addressed the issue.
“Karen, there may or may not be a story here, but for now, we’re in the asking
questions – not answering questions – phase.”
“C’mon, Danny! How ‘bout a scoop? Just a tiny one!”
The woman persisted seductively as the bearded man with the camera snapped a
picture of the cool detectives.
Williams
sighed and glanced at the woman’s pleading expression. He wished she weren’t in
the enemy camp as he shook his head regretfully. “Sorry – no
comment at this time.”
Ben and
Dan continued to deny the pleas as they physically pushed the media people out
of the store, and closed the door.
“Now what?” Kokua
asked as he leaned against the doorframe.
“We’d
better give Steve the heads up about the press – he hates surprises,” Williams
responded as he looked back towards the distraught store owner and interrupted
his own train of thought with a harsh command. “Hey! Watch
where you’re stepping!”
The
slight man looked down and quickly veered away from the pink-polished toes
sprinkled like ice cream toppings on the floor. With a shudder of disgust, the
shop owner skirted the scene, and vanished into the back room. Dan kneeled and
then gingerly leaned his head down to where it nearly touched the floor as he
drew near to the largest of the digits. From a sideways perspective, he studied
the toe. It seemed likely that it came from the same victim as the finger. What
was it about these parts that rang a bell in his head? The detective spent a few
more seconds in his awkward position before the pressure on the healing wound
on the top of his head forced him to give up his horizontal analysis and slowly
come to his feet.
As he
became upright, he clutched Ben’s arm as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
With passing annoyance, he knew he should’ve probably given his head a couple
more days to heal.
“You all
right, bruddah?” The taller detective grabbed his friend’s arm and helped to
stabilize him.
“Yeah,”
Williams quickly assured, but he maintained a grip on his colleague until he
re-established his equilibrium. Doing his best to subjugate his physical
disease, his thoughts returned to the fact that something about the body parts
almost summoned a memory… a realization.
“What is
it?” Ben’s brow furled slightly as he slipped his notebook back into his jacket
with his free hand.
The
shorter man gave a ginger shake of his head. “I… I don’t know. There’s
something… familiar…”
“It’s not
an old girlfriend...” The Samoan officer wondered as his face pinched with the
suggestion.
Dan’s
countenance matched his friend’s. “I hope not!”
NNN
Rushing through the door of the lab, McGarrett was
not sure what he expected when he came down to meet his second-in-command. From
his sense of relief at seeing Williams, he realized he had been expecting –
what? – some further misadventure with the officer? It
clued him in that his defensiveness over Danno’s head injury earlier in the
week – the reckless car chase this morning – was pressing at the back of his
thoughts this morning.
The return from a routine investigation was now a
source of release from anxiety. The calm was tempered, however, but the
strained expression, the crinkled tension around the eyes of the sandy haired
detective. Rubbing his temple when McGarrett arrived, the younger officer
glanced up from his observance of Che Fong’s work.
“Steve, Che is just about done with the note.”
McGarrett joined Williams to stand behind the lab
chief. Refraining from giving in to his urge to ask how Danno was feeling, he
accepted his observations in that department as sufficient. The detective was
pale and worn from a day of too much activity too soon, but was insisting on
staying on the job. It had definitely been a mistake to send him out on this
case, McGarrett recognized now.
It had been meant as a mild punishment to the
impulsive younger officer, who had so recklessly endangered his life and health
this morning. A penalty inflicted by an angry, quick-to-burn boss who lashed
out at his protégé for showing too much dedication. Shaking off his distraction
the head of Five-0 turned to the facts of the case without missing a beat.
“I checked with missing persons,” McGarrett
reported as he watched Che dust the note for prints. “No haole females reported
missing this week. Chin’s still checking the morgue and hospitals for Jane Does
who are missing fingers or toes, but so far, he’s got nothing.”
Williams sighed tightly. “I’m not surprised. I’m
betting this guy’s got the whole body somewhere. This is more than just a
prank.”
Veering his mental focus away from his friend’s
health, McGarrett was intrigued at the comment. “You sound certain.”
“I am,” Dan nodded. “I’m not sure why – maybe it’s
the notes. Whatever the reason, that’s what my instincts are telling me.”
McGarrett tilted his head as he scrutinized his
colleague. Yes, that’s what HIS instincts were telling him, too. “Okay. I
agree. We’re dealing with a twisted murderer who’s demanding our attention by
means of a nasty trick-or-treat message.”
Che broke in, “No fingerprints or any
distinguishing evidence on the notes.”
He held up two protective bags enclosing the notes. “Whoever he is, he’s
good.”
“He’s not good – he was careful twice,” Williams
returned distantly.
A thin smile slipped onto McGarrett’s face and his
hand came to rest on his second’s back. “And we’ll keep searching for the time
he’s not.”
Dan acknowledged his boss’s sentiment with a
slight nod before he returned to the moment. “I’m gonna head over to the
morgue. There’s something bugging me about the victim’s remains.”
“Danno, why don’t you knock off for the evening –
you’d do better to go sniffing around Bergman’s turf with a little sleep under
your belt.”
Williams started slightly, and then met his
mentor’s eye with focused concentration. McGarrett tensed slightly in wait of a
reason for his second’s reaction. Moments later, Dan glanced downward before he
looked up again, surprise registering in his expression. “That’s EXACTLY what I
need to do! Thanks, Steve!”
The younger detective turned and trotted out the
door without any further explanation.
Che Fong shook his head slightly. “I never saw
Danny so excited about getting some sleep.”
As he turned to leave, McGarrett countered, “I
suspect SLEEP wasn’t the operative word, Che.”
NNN
Williams
brushed through the anteroom of the morgue office space, and almost skidded to
a halt at the ME’s office door. Stepping in, he was taken back to see the office was already crowded.
Bergman, Dora, and Dr. Trent Overton were gathered around the desk in a very social atmosphere. Wondering in passing what the Chief of Cardiology was
doing here, he was more impressed with the delicious fare on the desk. The
papers and reports usually stacked among the general organized clutter, were covered with a table cloth of a bright blue
plaid. The medics were eating what looked and smelled like macaroni salad,
barbeque chicken, mixed vegetable sticks and a fruit salad. He bet it was all
homemade, too, he thought, mouth watering. Long ago, he had lost his queasiness
over people eating at the morgue. Bergman and his attendants had no trouble
munching on food even in the locker and autopsy area, though Dan had never
managed that level of comfort around corpses.
Eating in the adjacent office, though, was not a
problem. It sure looked and smelled better than the
cold-sandwich/take-out-Chinese that was the standard menu of Five-0. The spread
was proof positive that a woman’s touch given free reign and more money than
detectives’ salaries could routinely cough up for meals were substantiated in
the big and little things in life.
Recovering
quickly, the officer grinned. “A gourmet dinner in the morgue
– how unique!”
Bergman gave a humorless chuckle as he wiped his
hands with a napkin. “Danny Williams – one of the two walking examples of why I
should’ve never signed on as the Five-0 physician! You’re
barely twenty four hours out of the hospital with a head injury, and you get yourself wracked
up in a car accident this morning! Did
you think I wouldn’t hear the details from the coconut wireless? It was all
over the hospital before it was time
for a morning coffee break!”
Unsurprised
at the chastisement, Dan opened his mouth to offer his wrong-place-wrong-time
defense, but Dora
came to his rescue and took him by the arm. “
Williams
grimaced slightly, but was not given an entrée to speak.
“Oh, don’t coddle him, Dora,” the medical examiner
groaned.
Pointedly
ignoring her spouse, she
moved to the filing cabinet, produced a new set of paper plates and
accessories, then sat on the arm of her husband’s
chair. “Danny, join us for a picnic dinner – I
brought it here because
Dan took
in a breath to respond but Dora cut in, mild alarm suddenly registering in her
expression. “You DO remember our conversation, don’t you, sweetie?”
For the
first time since he’d entered the office, the detective was given the
opportunity to respond. He offered a reassuring smile to the nurse. “Of course
I remember our conversation, Dora – why wouldn’t I remember it?”
Dan
shrugged. “Not specifically, Doc, but something has come back to me about that
evening – I need to see the remains of my trick-or-treat victim.”
“Ah, the other source of gossip
for today’s coconut wireless,” Bergman sighed.
Trent
Overton swallowed whatever morsel of food had been in his mouth as he looked
towards the detective with a confused frown. “I’m sorry, Danny – trick-or-treat
victim? Is that the police handle for the body parts they’re talking about on
the television?”
Williams
nodded and repeated the reason for his visit. “Yes – I need to take another
look at the remains.”
The
cardiologist
flinched. “Pretty gruesome Halloween prank, but still a joke I would think,
nonetheless. I can’t believe Five-0 is even paying attention to it.”
“Five-0
is not considering it a joke, Doctor Overton,” Dan leveled a serious gaze at
the man.
It was
Bergman’s turn to frown as he rose from his chair. “Wait a minute – WHAT do the body parts found today have to do with what happened
to you the night of the dance?”
“I’ll
tell you in a minute,” Dan rose and stepped from the office. The others
followed him down the hall and around the corner to the morgue proper, where
the remains of deceased persons were kept refrigerated.
The
medical examiner pointed. “Drawer six.”
Williams
tugged the stainless-steel handle on the drawer, which promptly slid open to
reveal a nine-inch by thirteen-inch tray. Dan stopped the drawer from sliding
out to its full human being length and put his face down to within inches of
the now-familiar human parts.
“My God!” Overton
turned away instantly and took a few paces before he turned to watch the scene
over his shoulder.
The
detective ignored the reaction and continued his up-close examination of the
remains, but the Bergmans blinked in surprise and exchanged glances before
their focus turned in tandem to the cardiologist – a surgeon who routinely
sliced into human viscera for a living.
“Gee,
Overton
made no attempt to disguise the distaste emblazoned on his pale face. “Sorry… I
think you’re a bit jaded,
“I help
the dead tell their side of the story – a pretty satisfying job actually,
“And
nobody does it better than my
“It’s the
perfume – I know this smell – it was in the trunk of the car that night!”
As Dora
stepped closer and leaned in to sniff the body parts on the tray,
“Not this
one!” The nurse announced, her expression confident.
The three men looked at her as she continued. “This is Burning Ember – a
hundred and fifty dollars an ounce!”
“How do
you know that?” The medical examiner’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Most
women will recognize a famous fragrance – even if her spouse doesn’t approve of
– or appreciate – the purchase.” Her own eyes accused her husband.
A smile
flickered across Dan’s lips before he turned looked over his shoulder to
address the surgeon. “Doctor Overton, I don’t suppose your wife wears Burning
Ember?”
The
physician, still looking a little pale, edged closer and, with the briefest of
glances at the digits on the tray, looked at the detective. “As a matter of
fact, she does – I bought it for her as a birthday gift a few months ago.”
Williams
looked away briefly, a little disheartened. “What a coincidence – I get stuffed
into a trunk which smells like the same rare cologne of a murder victim.”
“Yes… I…
I guess it is a bit of a coincidence,” Overton offered as he nodded uncertainly
in the direction of the body parts. “Perhaps the scent on this poor creature is
a copy – I know many companies attempt to duplicate expensive perfumes.”
Dora
leaned in and inhaled again before she looked back at the detective. “It’s hard
to be one hundred percent certain through the slight aura of decomposition, but
my nose smells the real deal.”
Dan
offered an unconvincing smile. “I guess it doesn’t really matter since
Overton,
finally getting over his queasiness, broke into a hesitant grin. “On a first name basis with my wife, Danny?”
“I danced
with her twice,” Williams explained with a lop-sided grin. He let out a single,
un-amused laugh. “Now that I think of it, it was probably me that was wearing
the Burning Ember in the trunk.”
The
others chuckled with the detective’s self-deprecating admission. Dora gave Dan’s arm an affectionate bump. “It’s good that you
remembered the scent – is anything else about your attack coming back to you?”
The
detective canted his head slightly and spoke slowly. “Yeaaahh
– some stuff… and there’s still something smell-wise nagging me at the moment.”
“Don’t
worry too much – a lot of times, people remember things as the swelling dies
down.” The nurse spoke with the authority of many years experience under her
belt. Dan turned a fleeting look of gratitude towards the little woman, but the
medical examiner headed off further reaction.
“Any new leads?” Bergman queried with interest.
“Probably not much chance of that. A mugging is
difficult to track.”
It was a statement, not a question, but Williams
felt compelled to respond anyway. “We’re working on it.”
“Following all leads, knocking
on doors, the usual routine. Danny, I expect better of you. Let’s not look too much like Lestrade.”
“Who?”
“The hapless Scotland Yarder
who was never as clever as Sherlock Holmes.”
“It’s not
technically my case, Doc – I’m the victim. This is an HPD matter.”
“Ha! Some
people might swallow that story, Detective, but I know your boss too well!”
Refraining from rubbing the headache that was back
full force, he gave them all a tight smile. There was no way to win when
debating, arguing or even questioning the Bergmans. They seemed to know
everything (annoyingly they were almost always right – like Steve
), had done about everything and been everywhere. Besides, Dan had the sneaking suspicion that his boss could
well be checking up – seriously checking up – on HPD’s progress. Williams’ best defense was to surrender
and change the subject.
“What
else can you tell me about the victim, Doc?”
“The lab report confirmed what I thought when I
first examined the them – all severed post mortem. No
embalming.” Bergman stopped speaking to let this significant fact sink in to
his audience.
“Do you
suspect murder?"
“It’s my
job to suspect murder,” Dan responded distractedly as he maintained a focus on
the medical examiner.
“And my job to
provide evidence to support or refute said suspicion,” Bergman chimed in before
he continued his report. “These digits were severed with little skill and a crude
instrument. Could be as common as a kitchen steak knife.
Difficult to say how long the victim has been dead, but not very long. If I’m looking strictly at decomposition, then I’d put time
of death within the week. All digits showed signs of being buried. I’ve sent the soil samples to
Che.”
“Buried – hmmm.
People generally don’t bury bodies who’ve died of natural causes,” Williams
mused.
“No, they
don’t,” Bergman agreed, and then added. “Danny, you look done in – you need to
call it a day.”
With a
sigh of resignation and a nod, he un-necessarily requested that the medical
examiner notify him of any new discoveries, and then, declining Dora’s repeat
invitation to join them for dinner, made his way towards the door.
“Go home
and get some rest!” The medical examiner commanded again.
Williams
continued moving toward the door as he called over his shoulder. “Ten-four, Doc.”
Overton
watched the detective until he vanished out the door before he turned his focus
back on the physician, who was sliding the tray back into its refrigerator home.
“
“Can’t help but follow the crime scene in my line
of work,” the ME shrugged. With a twinkle in his eye, he looked at his wife.
“We fancy ourselves the amateur sleuths. Comes with the
territory.”
The
cardiologist pursed his lips and frowned slightly. “So Danny, even in his great
misfortune to have walked in on the theft of my Caddie, also had the good luck
to have his own physician standing by to treat him for his minor injuries.”
“
Overton’s
eyes grew large and he held up his hands. “Oh I did not mean to play down the
seriousness of the crime – I just recall hearing that he walked back into the
garage.”
The
medical examiner growled as he held the door open for his wife and visitor,
“Five-0 detectives have a strange way of being able to continue walking when
they should be incapacitated.”
NNN
Feeling like he was drowning in back-logged
paperwork, McGarrett brightened momentarily when he saw Lukela enter the
office. The expression on the Hawaiian officer’s face was unreadable, as it
often was, and the terse tone of matter-of-fact reporting did not add any
encouragement to the proceedings.
“I don’t have much for you, Steve, sorry. Mostly
negatives. The week before Danny’s kidnapping, as you know, there were three
car thefts in that general area. None at the Hilton.
No muggings there at all for about two weeks. Completely
different MO there, by the way, an elderly couple from
McGarrett leaned over and scanned the report
sheets the sergeant had spread out on the desk. Muggings in
“
“More evidence to support the theory that Danno
surprised a car thief.”
“Yeah,” Duke agreed, and then added, “Under the
circumstances, isn’t that probably the best thing that could’ve happened? I
mean, it implies that the guy wasn’t gunning for Danny specifically.”
McGarrett rubbed the back of his neck and
admitted, “Yeah, Duke. If I had to choose between Danno having bad luck and
Danno being a target, I’d take the bad luck every time. Mahalo
for the follow up.”
NNN
While McGarrett did not
approve of the method, nor the mayhem on State
property, the circumstances of Williams without a vehicle lent a satisfying, if
severe, element of control over the younger officer. More able to dictate the
terms of his protégé’s work hours, the boss drove Williams home the night
before and provided a pick-up the next morning.
Danno seemed in better
color, more rested, and none-the-worse for wear from yesterday morning’s wild
chase. By the time they reached the office, McGarrett was more apt to consider
his friend was healing well and up to handling an average day at work – as long
as that did not include reckless chases or deadly fights with criminals.
The morning staff meeting
blended into phone calls to check on lab results, a brief meeting with Duke
Lukela over an HPD overnight matter, and a call back to Manicote.
Strolling into the outer office just before ten AM, McGarrett
felt a glow of positive optimism. Things were going so much better this
morning, he assessed, as he glanced into Danno’s cubicle and saw the younger
detective on the phone. When Ben approached him with an air of disturbance, he
knew things were about to change.
“Trouble?”
Ben waved a memo in his
hand. “I just got off the phone with Officer Ono. We have another body part!”
Just finished with his
call, Williams slammed down the phone. “What?”
McGarrett shook his head. “Where?”
“The record store at Ala Moana Mall.”
McGarrett muttered, “Let
me guess – an ear?”
Kokua’s eyebrows shot up for a moment,
impressed with his boss’s deduction. “Yeah, Steve.”
The lead detective
gestured to Williams and took the note from the Samoan detective. “Come on, gentlemen, let’s hear what our killer has to say at the record
store.”
Silence predominated
during the drive to the sprawling shopping center near the beach. As McGarrett
steered around slower vehicles, and raced through two yellow lights, Williams
finally took his attention from the speedy trek to glance at his boss.
“What’s bugging you,
Steve?”
“The MO.”
“Another body part? Or the
location?”
“Both. This guy definitely
has a sick sense of humor. A finger in a ring case,
toes in a shoe store, and now an ear in a record store. He could get our
attention without taking the risks he’s taking to deliver these body parts. I’m
wondering whether he’s trying to give us more than one clue.”
“And WHY these specific parts?”
McGarrett smirked. “ONE
reason has to be convenience. Toting around a leg or arm in
The mall parking lot was
already filling, early shoppers descending to be at their favorite stores when
the doors opened. Screeching to a stop at the red curb next
to two HPD units. McGarrett and Williams hopped out and hurried through
the center courtyard to the nearby record store close to the escalators.
Having never come to this
shop – McGarrett preferred to buy his records at a small establishment on Fort
Street Mall near the office, or at Kahala Mall where he bought his suits – it
was a jarring culture shock to walk in the front doors. Apparently, the manager
had set in motion his opening routine before the discovery of the body part.
Reeking incense was burning and Steve’s nose twitched at the strong odor
wafting from the back of the shop. Williams sneezed. At that point, Ben
arrived, coughing and grimacing at the smell.
Blaring, nerve-screeching
noise with scratchy electric guitars assaulted them from speakers on all sides.
Above the record bins, psychedelic posters plastered the walls; some glowing
from florescent black lights, some declaring rude slogans against the Vietnam war, some insulting the police. Tie-dyed shirts draped over
the counters, along with beads and peace symbol necklaces, gave the store a
tilt toward a thrift shop ambiance.
Joining Officers Ono and
Nuuanu at the
counter, Steve was introduced to the clerk behind the desk. The young man
stared at him with undisguised insolence. Brown hair frizzed into a bushy mop,
it was barely held in check by a leather strap around his forehead. A beard and
mustache obscured much of his face, while orange-tinted glasses covering his
eyes. Despite all the camouflage, McGarrett felt the disdain emanating from the
youth in the multi-colored tie-dyed shirt, jeans and sandals. The slouching
posture, the feet on the desk, the glare instead of a civil greeting,
forewarned the head of Five-0 that they had just entered enemy territory.
Foregoing the standard social amenities, Nuuanu
immediately jumped into an explanation. “Kamana here
found the letter and ear this morning when he opened.” The patrolman pointed to the register area. A
familiar envelope and the appendage in question were sitting atop the cash
drawer.
“You touched the evidence?” McGarrett accused
sharply to the young man.
“A real trip, ya know?” he smiled at the officers,
thrilled at their dismay. “An ear! And a note for you pigs, too. Some guy’s
really yanking your chain, huh? More power to him,” he nearly shouted, to be
sure his message was emphasized. Outside, curious onlookers, and obvious
patrons of the music store, gathered, some waving,
some pointing at the officers. Kamana smiled and
waved back, delighted to be the center of attention and controversy.
Feeling Williams bristle beside him, McGarrett
placed a cautionary hand on his colleague’s shoulder. “Danno, why don’t you
take care of the music so we can properly question Mr. Kamana.”
“My pleasure,” the officer twitched a smile.
Stepping over to the record player on the counter, he snapped off the power and
the needle ground to an abrupt stop on the vinyl record.
The blessed silence was almost painful;
McGarrett’s ears rang in residual ache from the slow-to-die throb from the din.
Kamana launched to his feet in confrontation.
“Hey! That’s my original Iron Butterfly
album—”
“Sit down, sonny,” McGarrett pushed the young man
back in the chair. “Or I might get the idea you were acting in an aggressive
manner toward the police. We can already cite you for tampering with evidence
in a murder investigation—”
“Hey—”
“And I bet you don’t want us to start
investigating exactly what else you burn in this store, right?” Ono suggested
sharply.
“No,” Kamana admitted
between grinding teeth. “But don’t try any more police brutality! You just try to get rough with me Big Pig and
– and – I have witnesses!” he flung an arm toward the spectators gawking from
the other side of the glass doors.
Fists clenching with irritation, McGarrett noted
from the corner of his eye that Williams stepped toward the manager. He
maneuvered in front of his reactionary detective to act as a subtle barrier
between Williams and this low-life. “In a few minutes, we’ll let you bask in
your temporary fame with your little crowd of fans out there. Now let’s get
this over with for both our sakes,” McGarrett brusquely focused back on track.
Noting the lab crew making their way through the gathering crowd, and
additional officers taking care of the onlookers, he demanded the man give them
a run down of the discovery. “Tell us what happened this morning.”
As with the previous crimes scenes, the discovery
was made upon opening the shop. Nothing seemed out of place or missing. In this
case, unfortunately, Kamana had read the letter and
admitted, with some pride, that he had played with the ear to see if it was
real.
While the techs dusted for prints and Kamana complained about them messing up the merchandise,
McGarrett and Williams moved in for a closer look at the latest body part. At a
guess, Williams commented, the pale, delicate ear, matched the skin tone of the
toes and the finger. Again, it seemed like a crude job of surgery.
After studying the ear, McGarrett read the opened
note aloud.
“Her scream was heard aloud,
the cops should not be proud,
silenced, the woman’s fear,
McGarrett, lend me an ear.”
Shaking his head in disgust, McGarrett wondered,
“What do you think, Danno?”
“Besides bad poetry?” Williams sniffed the appendage. His expression quizzical. “Burning Ember.”
McGarrett warily drew close to the body part and
gave a cautionary inhale. Aside from the cloying cloud of musky incense, there
were distinctive scents from the ear. Nodding, he assessed the putrid odor of
decay, the stifling, mustiness of soil, and the scent of the pricey perfume.
“Incredible coincidence that our victim here was wearing the same scent you
were wearing second-hand when you were assaulted.”
An annoyed glance at his boss preceded Williams’
reluctant agreement. “Yeah.”
McGarrett considered. “I’m betting there are only
a few stores in the city who sell this stuff.”
A satisfied smile vanquished Dan’s sour
expression. “You’re right, Steve – just before we got this call, I was looking
into it. I’ve already learned that there are about a dozen shops in
“Good work,
Danno,” McGarrett nodded with satisfaction. “Hopefully one of the clerks will
remember a petite woman with very pink nail polish buying it.”
“It’s a real long shot, Steve. You know most women
don’t buy the expensive stuff for themselves.”
“No,” he sighed. “But a list of buyers might help
us all the same. Instead of leading us to the victim, it could lead us to the
killer.” He shook his head, still
studying the ear. “If it was a little closer to Christmas I would expect the
remains to show up in a cardboard box. Halloween, though, it’s got me stumped.”
Scrutinizing the older detective, Dan did not miss
the slightly crinkled lines around the twinkling eyes. He winced at the dark pun
and shook his head. “Ouch, Steve,” he groaned.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
“What do you mean about the cardboard box?”
“Sherlock Holmes. A Christmas story where the
jealous husband killed his wife and her lover, then
put an ear in a cardboard box and sent it to the wife’s sister. Not as complex
as it sounds.”
“That’s the SECOND reference to Sherlock Holmes
I’ve heard in the past twenty four hours. Doc said something last night about
Scotland Yard and now you.” The younger
detective’s eyes narrowed marginally as he watched his boss for signs of a
reaction. “AND he suspected you were probably conducting a secret investigation
into my -- I might as well say it – mugging.”
The reaction was there – perhaps visible to nobody
else on the planet – but Five-0’s second-in-command saw it even as McGarrett
discharged the notion.
A glance in the direction of the friend who knew
him too well told Steve that his denial would go un-believed. Still, he put
forward a short dismissal. “I’ll state for the record one final time that the
incident is HPD’s case.”
With a crooked smile, Dan maintained a level gaze
at his boss. “Okay.”
NNN
“A fool…
I was a fool…” Heaving sobs made the words difficult to understand.
“Yes, you
WERE… and you ARE. There’s nothing to be done about that, but it’s clear that
we’re going to have to take drastic measures to hide your weakness and
STUPIDITY!”
“What…
what can we do?”
“Bury the
problem… or at least make sure the problem gets buried.”
NNN
After putting in a full day in Cardiology, Dora
arrived at the morgue to collect her husband. She was not surprised to find him
hunched over the desk, in a good imitation of Sherlock Holmes, magnifying lens
in hand, examining a photo.
“What are you doing?” she wondered as she joined
him behind the desk.
“Pictures of the trick-or-treat evidence. This is the ring that was on the finger when they found it. Doesn’t it look familiar?”
“Yes - it’s - oh - I’ve seen it before, I know
it.” They exchanged looks and she laughed.
“It’s rotten to get old, isn’t it, dear?”
“They say the mind is the first to go, but not
yours, sweetheart. You’ll come up with it eventually.”
“It’s the eventually I’m worried about.”
His intent study continued as he asked distractedly, “How are things in Cardiology?”
"Doctor Overton hurt his hand gardening so
that new Doctor Kumar had to assist. She's is really a wonderful person, and
good in the OR. She’s the one I wanted Steve to meet at the dance. The next time
you see him, remind him to give her a call."
"But this
could be the one for Steve!"
“I will
not help you ensnare hapless bachelors who fall into your line of sight!”
“Are you
happier married, darling?” Dora turned candy sweet suddenly.
The
medical examiner snapped his glasses from his nose and looked up at his wife.
“Of course I’m happier! You domesticated me early in life – I don’t know
anything else, but I’ve
warned you before – It's not going to happen with Steve. Not every man can be
conquered by the pretty face of one of your nurses!”
"Or doctors,” she
sniffed defensively. “You never know."
"You only get away with this because of your
grandmotherly wisdom and your natural charm, you know," he complained.
“Steve won't go for it this time. Not with a Cardiologist who is as busy as he
is!"
Dora gasped. “Cardiologist!” Her husband started at her. “Overton. Alice Overton wears a ring just like that!"
Both scrunched together to look through the lens.
"Yes, you're right! But, does that mean anything?” He mumbled as he continued
to study the photo.
"I don't know," she puzzled. "
"Mmm, not
really,"
"She does so have hazel eyes!"
"What? Oh, no, I mean about
“Believe me,
“You’re right.”
She double-checked the photo. "I can prove this is
"No, but I'll take your word for it."
“We have to tell Steve.”
Bergman scoffed. “Tell him what? That Alice Overton has a ring that is SIMILAR to the ring
they found on that finger?”
The
petite woman stiffened and snapped her hands to her hips indignantly. “NOT
similar – identical!”
A morgue
attendant looked askance at the couple as he passed by the door, and they
realized that their voices had grown to argument level. After allowing a few
moments of silence to cool the sizzle in the air, both started to speak, and
then stopped.
The
doctor grabbed his wife’s hand, and addressed her in a deliberately hushed
voice. “If you’re one hundred percent certain – just by looking at this tiny
little picture – then we need to let Steve know.”
Slowly,
Dora looked in the direction of the photo again before a pained expression
overcame her. “Okay, I’m not ABSOLUTELY one hundred percent certain.”
The pair
grew silent again for several seconds as each pondered the alternatives.
Finally, the medical examiner wondered out loud, “If it IS
“Maybe it
was stolen. Maybe she doesn’t even know it’s missing yet.” Dora’s eyes grew
large. “OR maybe she LOST it, but hasn’t told
“Hmm, can
you find a way to diplomatically bring up the subject with
Dora
looked up her husband as her eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ll think of something.”
NNN
“What I don’t get is why the protesters give us
advanced details!” Duke Lukela scoffed as he sneered at the newspaper report in
the afternoon paper. “They know we’ll be all over them like bad poi!”
Tiredly, McGarrett shook his head, irrelevantly
linking the image of protesters with the hippy-reject record store manager.
Hard to explain to a by-the-book officer like Lukela that some misguided
radicals would do just about anything – even defile a sacred event like the
Pearl Harbor attack anniversary commemoration – with their personal grievances.
A purely selfish platform to exploit their own biased opinions, even at the
damage to honorable men and women who had seen more horrors in a few hours on
December Seventh than most people could imagine.
“They want to gather their cronies and mess with
the military,” Williams complained around a yawn.
“Well, HPD and Five-0 will be there to stop them,”
McGarrett assured with steel resolve, his gaze veering to study his
second-in-command. Danno was wearing down, the usual duties weighing on the
recovering officer. They’d have to call it quits soon. To the sergeant, he
continued, “That’s why I want you on top of this, Duke. We’ve only got a few
more weeks to nail down the security. The Navy will handle everything on the
base, but we’re responsible for everything around it.”
“Still a lousy way to treat veterans,” Duke griped
with a shake of his head.
Further comment was forestalled when the phone
rang. McGarrett, pacing by the chalk board, was not inclined to respond. When
he saw Williams leave the white chair he was sitting in and move toward the
desk, the boss admonished, “Danno, let Jenny get this, I want to finish this
briefing without interruption.”
The younger officer blinked, glancing quickly at
Duke, then back to McGarrett. With a slight grin, he continued to move forward,
his hand reaching for the phone. “Steve, Jenny left a while ago. It’s almost
seven.”
Knowing the report must be correct, nonetheless,
the chief turned to the digital clock, reading the numbers 6:42, as Williams
spoke into the receiver.
“About time.” Then his entire expression
changed to one of surprise. “Really.” His demeanor altered – energized by the
information – eyebrows raised into his scrunched brow as he reported to
McGarrett. “They found Doctor Overton’s car, Steve. Wrecked
on the Pali. And they have a dead body to go with it.”
“Let’s go,” McGarrett ordered, grabbing his jacket
and shoulder holster and racing out the door, his officers at his heels.
NNN
On the far side of Pali tunnel HPD squad cars
parked along the shoulder of the highway. Red flares burned incandescent red
leading to the crime scene. Fortunately, it was after rush hour and peak
tourist sightseeing, so the highway was relatively unclogged. As they pulled
around the law enforcement vehicles, they curved down to the right. The angle
opened up an incredible vista of the valley panorama nestling
Here on the Pali, the clouds were close, hugging
the sharply defined, verdant cliffs in a cloaked haze. The sun already obscured
by the hills and overcast mist, the roadside darkening to purple and gray. On
the
McGarrett read the moment as a metaphor; the
unsolved case and injury to Williams the dark past. Perhaps this moment was the
turning point, the kahana, the emergence; Williams’ recovery AND
a break in the mysterious investigation.
Exiting the Mercury, they joined Lukela and other
officers at the edge of the asphalt. Just below the highway, a late model
Cadillac rested, imbedded in the thick trees of the ravine. HPD officers had
jury-rigged a rope line tied from the bumper of a blue-and-white, trailing down
to the wrecked car.
From this distance, the detectives easily spotted
a body slumped against the steering wheel. The front end of the Cadillac was
crunched, the right side smashed in, the trunk popped open from the violence of
the crash.
Shivering slightly from the micro-droplets of cool
rain lashing against him in the force of the merciless Pali winds, McGarrett
asked for details from the first officers on scene. They reported that a
motorist stopped in traffic this evening happened to notice taillights of the
downed car.
The dead man carried with him no form of
identification, but the car registration confirmed its ownership to Doctor
Overton.
McGarrett seized onto the rope and climbed down,
not surprised that Williams, and Lukela followed. Rain and mud plastered the
car, evidence it had been here for a while. They knew the absolute time the
vehicle was stolen, he considered as he studied the body. How long ago had the
wreck happened? A gash at the side of the victim’s head gave a guess at the
cause of death.
Williams glanced back up to the highway. “Raining,
night, driving fast to get clear of the city in a stolen car, he could have
taken that turn too sharp and slid right off the road.”
“Yeah, bad luck for him.” He scrutinized his friend. “Could this be the
guy that hit you?”
Williams stared at the deceased. “I – I don’t
know, Steve. I can’t remember.”
“Okay,” McGarrett patted his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter if you saw him or not, Danno. The lab can
tell us what we need to know.”
Shaking his head, the younger detective was not so
optimistic. “It’s been through a lot of rain and wind, Steve. Che might not be
able to tell us too much.”
Lukela swung his flashlight into the partially
open trunk. “We’ve got a lady’s shawl back here with some stains on it,” he
reported. As the detectives joined him, he inquired, “Is this the trunk you
were in, Danny?”
Shrugging, Williams wiped the damp mist from his
hair and face. “It must be.”
The tow truck arrived along with the lab crew and
the night-shift Coroner assistants. McGarrett suggested they could follow up on
this in the morning when they had more evidence collected and analyzed.
Frustrated, Williams seemed reluctant to leave, and gingerly leaned his head
partially into the trunk. With a glance at Lukela, the head of Five-0 gently
tugged his second upright, and commanded that the evening was over. Agreeing,
but still visibly perturbed, Williams scrambled up the slope.
NNN
Niles Bergman glanced at the clock on the wall as
he noticed Dora’s face peeking through the window of the door to the autopsy
room. He knew his petite bride had to be standing on her tip toes to have the
view she currently held. As soon as the pair made eye contact, she cracked the
door open and stuck her head in.
He looked back at the open chest cavity of his
customer and greeted her with, “You’re way too early!”
“I’ve got news,” she responded neutrally, and then
vanished behind the door.
The physician groaned in annoyance when she
offered no clue as to what the news could be. He tugged his rubber gloves from
his hands and dropped them into the galvanized-steel bucket near his feet as he
snapped a tired command to his assistant. “Erol, start the mid-lines for me.”
The lanky man nodded and looked back to the table
as he unrolled the pack of cutting instruments.
Dora was sitting on the naughahyde sofa in the
autopsy anteroom when the medical examiner tiredly dropped next to her. “Okay,
what has your investigation turned up, my dear?”
The nurse, eyes large, began speaking immediately.
“I called
Bergman watched her face without blinking until
she came to the end of her rapid-fire story. “It’s a good thing you didn’t
argue with her – you’d be fainted on the floor here from a lack of oxygen!”
Ignoring her husband’s tease, Dora continued with
mild exasperation. “
“Let’s assume she’s NOT lying, darling. That would
mean… that the one who stole Trent’s car out of the Hawaiian Village parking
garage either had contact with or IS the trick-or-treat killer.” The couple
shared several seconds of silence as they pondered the possibilities.
Finally, Dora looked at her spouse. “That’s the
scenario if
Bergman frowned for a few moments before he
offered his explanation. “Then Alice Overton either had contact with or IS the
trick-or-treat killer.” Dora grimaced and opened her mouth to retort, but
“What?”
“They recovered
“Really? Who is he?” Dora glanced at
the door, but quickly drew her attention back to the man sitting next to her.
“The police are running the prints, but I haven’t
heard back yet. What you’ll find interesting is the fact that I’ve found bits
of tissue which are consistent with the trick-or-treat victim under his
fingernails.”
“So the man who stole
“It’s looking like a pretty strong possibility
given what we currently know,” Bergman returned as he squeezed his wife’s knee
and rose. “Now, I’ve got to get back to work.”
Dora held her husband’s hand to the door, and when
he gave her a peck on the cheek, she looked up at him. “But WHY was
“I’m sorry your boss’s wife is not an axe
murderer, darling – maybe dinner out will cheer you up?”
She pushed him through the swinging doors.
“Something is amiss, my dear Holmes – wait and see!”
NNN
Following the gathering of evidence at the crime
scene, came the most tedious part of the investigation – waiting. The results
of analysis from HPD records, Che Fong’s lab team, and Bergman’s pathology
team, would not be in for hours. Crosschecking computer data bases, running
scientific tests and processing facts and translating them into reports
depended on a human work force and took time.
This was the span when McGarrett’s impatience
peaked during a case and over many years had trained himself
to concentrate on other tasks. All details on the Five-0 side of the inquiry
covered, the officers turned to other pressing duties. Security for the
Jenny and the secretarial staff had left hours
before. A dinner of deli sandwiches and chips was consumed and darkness
descended by the time Sergeant Lukela arrived with the first break to the monotony.
“We’ve got an ID, Steve,” he announced as he
entered the big office.
McGarrett and Williams, shirtsleeves rolled back,
sitting in the matching white leather chairs both came to their feet. Kelly,
and Kokua, slouched on the sofa, straightened.
“What have you go, Duke?” McGarrett crisply
demanded, straightening his tie in anticipation for action.
“Man in the stolen car was Richard Gene Donaldson.
Employed at Benson’s Cadillac Dealership.” He handed over a slip of paper. “Here’s his
address.”
“Let’s go,” McGarrett ordered, sweeping around his
desk to grab his jacket and holster. By the time he spun around to jog out the
door, his men in various stages of preparation donning jackets and ties,
trailed behind.
NNN
The
small, unassuming house was clearly not the residence of anyone who cared about
appearances. The plants meant for the flowerbed had long ago lost their battle
to the weedier flora, which had now taken over all but the thinnest path on the
sidewalk to the front door as well. The state of the landscaping though was not
the Five-0 detectives’ focus as McGarrett gave orders by hand signal to his
men. Ben and Dan skirted the crab-grass-saturated lawn and disappeared around
the side of the house through the car port.
With Chin
on his heels, McGarrett jogged to the front door, where the men positioned
themselves on either side of the screen door. They waited for a silent count of
thirty before the lead detective announced the presence and intended entry of
law enforcement personnel. The sound of the other two officers entering through
the back door echoed into to the living room as the head of Five-0 quickly
scanned for signs of resistance in the rooms only illuminated from the pallid
glow of the streetlamps through the filthy windows. Within a minute, all four
detectives convened in the front room to confirm their belief that the
residence was vacant. Separating again, they all headed in different directions
to begin a more thorough search, flipping on meager, dim, house lights as they
progressed.
Steve
stepped into the small, mildewy bathroom and tugged the shower curtain out of
the bathtub. A dark pink stain ringed the tub and discolored much of the
surface area below the ring. He was repelled, but not surprised. It made sense
that the victim had been hacked into parts in a spot where the mess could be
contained and the blood could drain harmlessly into the sewer system. With a
final glance of disgust, he slipped back into the hallway.
The THUNK
of the seal releasing its hold on the freezer door came as no surprise to
Williams, who gasped as the human head tumbled from the freezer and landed with
the sound of a bowling ball in its bag being dropped on the lane. The head,
abundant with pixie-length black hair, rolled only a couple feet before it came
to rest on the teal-and-white checked tile. Williams cried out and stumbled
backwards, knocking the table behind him a kilter. Despite the fact that he
knew they were coming to the home of a suspect in a brutal
murder-dismemberment, he had not expected this!
In the
space of a few seconds, the commotion brought the other three Five-0 detectives
from other parts of the house. They all burst with cautious urgency into the
kitchen and sized up the scene and their colleague. It was obvious that Dan had
sustained a fright as he was still leaning against the table and did not look
up from the floor.
Steve was
the first to track his second’s line of sight to the object, which instantly
evoked a sense of horror and revulsion. From the quiet, verbal expressions of
distaste, it was apparent that Ben and Chin had followed suit.
The
almost-serene expression gave the female head an artificial appearance and
belied its ghastly circumstance. The half-open, dark eyes stared
disinterestedly ahead, and were glazed over with a light coating of frost. The
lower lip pouted slightly and would have allowed a straw to slip comfortably
into the mouth. The poor creature’s dark locks had either been hair sprayed
into their rigid positions or dampness of some sort had caused them to freeze
into their wind-blown stances.
Williams
swallowed and collected himself enough to offer an unnecessary explanation.
“It… it fell from there.” His eyes tore from the floor and pointed towards the
fridge.
Steve
gingerly released a breath, harshly inhaled moments before, as he lightly
squeezed his protégé’s shoulder and looked up at the kitchen appliance. Ben,
treading lightly around the head, nudged the freezer door open as far as it
would go with the barrel of his drawn
gun, which he’d un-holstered upon hearing Dan’s distressed cry. More noises of
disgust narrated the scene as the Five-0 men surveyed several more body parts
resting haphazardly amidst a dozen white-paper-wrapped packages.
Finally,
the lead detective found his voice, and let his embedded self-discipline take
over. “Chin, call Bergman’s office and get Che’s team in here.”
With a
last distasteful glance in the direction of his boss, the Chinese detective
nodded and re-sheathed his weapon as he left the room. Dan stepped away from
the table and, with a long, calming sigh, began to look around the rest of the
kitchen.
Steve and
Ben exchanged a look silently confirming the gruesome nature of the discovery
before Ben turned towards the fridge to more closely examine its contents and
the lead detective took a step towards the sink. Beneath the clean plate and
cup on the dish rack were a butcher knife and a carving knife. McGarrett
cringed slightly as he noted a small axe in lying in the sink. The tool
appeared clean to the naked eye, but Steve knew that it had probably been used
to dismember the poor victim.
“A lot of
the victim is still here,” the Samoan detective broke the silence with his
announcement from the fridge.
“Steve,”
Dan’s voice summoned softly from the other side of the table, where Williams
stood over a trash can, holding a crinkled piece of paper in his handkerchief.
He gently tossed the paper onto the table and flattened it quickly with the
cloth. The other two detectives gathered around and studied the page:
Who knows whose
nose A
rose
Who knows whose nose
An
eye for an eye
knee flee bee tree
arm --- charm harm
foot --- soot LEG – beg
eye try fly why
“Knee,
flee… arm, charm… Why these parts you asked, Danno,” Steve mused.
Williams
looked up with a grimace. “Donaldson couldn’t think of anything to rhyme with
elbow.”
With a
grim smirk, McGarrett nodded and carefully retrieved the only other
easily-accessible crumpled notebook paper from the trash, and spread it on the
table near the other one:
What will the killer do to keep out of jail?
Flail mail trail
What will the killer do to keep the secret from his wife?
There’s more than one witness
Wife strife life
Will he kill a cop?
How long
before the cop remembers recalls
Who else must die to keep the killer’s secret safe?
SAFE – strafe waif
“Bad
poetry in progress,” Ben breathed.
“Bad
poetry chock full of clues,” McGarrett returned distractedly. “Bag these notes
and bring them to me.”
“Steve,”
the Samoan detective stepped closer to the table. “Now that we found this guy’s
freezer packed full of human remains, you’re not thinking there’s any doubt
about his guilt, are you?”
The
Five-0 chief's blue eyes pierced his interrogator. "Doubt is what keeps me
careful, bruddah."
NNN
“Donaldson
wasn’t married, was he?” Williams wondered as he slouched down onto the couch.
“Nope,”
Chin announced as he strode through the office door. “Not since he’s lived here
anyway. Is anybody else hungry?”
“Then why
is he talking about keeping the secret from a wife?” Dan looked up at his boss,
who leaned on the frame of his lanai door.
The
doodles, practice messages, and poems in progress had been the subject of
discussion off and on between other police matters over the course of the day.
The case was not considered officially solved – the identity of Donaldson’s
victim had yet to come to light – but it was clearly well on its way. With that
information being general knowledge, other cases took on greater urgency.
McGarrett
said very little – instead, he listened to the various comments and opinions of
his subordinates, who all had theories about the meanings in the dead man’s
trashed notes.
“Maybe
he’s talkin’ about an ex-wife somewhere,” the Chinese detective suggested.
Ben
shrugged. “Or maybe he WANTED a wife – maybe the lady in his fridge. I could
eat – should we order something?”
“Maybe it
don’t matter now,” Chin offered as he moved a nearby
chair and sat. “The killer is dead.”
“Yeah,
Donaldson’s bad driving broke the case for us,” the Samoan mentioned as he sank
into the vacant seat by Chin. “I read the HPD accident report – it agreed with the on-scene
accident assessment of the night before. The Cadillac skidded off the highway,
probably at a high speed. No brake marks indicated the driver came up to the
curve so quickly, probably at night, that there was no chance to avoid a
collision into the trees.”
Dan
sighed and began to press on his temple as he responded, “Well, that accident
is the first time Donaldson ever showed up on the HPD radar. He lived his life without as
much as a parking ticket. Showed up for work on time everyday
at Benson’s Cadillac Dealership, paid his bills on time.”
“Hmmm…” Ben frowned. “The dealership must be
Donaldson’s connection to Doctor Overton’s caddie.”
It was the Chinese detective’s turn to grimace.
“But why steal it? What about carry out from Uncle Lee’s?”
A grin played across the Samoan detective’s face.
“It was a NICE ride.”
Dan
slowly rose from the sofa and stretched as he intoned seriously, “Well, I don’t
remember it being all that great in the trunk.”
Steve
reacted visibly for the first time since the discussion began. Grinning, he
turned and sat on the corner of his desk. “Comfort for passengers in the trunk
probably wasn’t a design consideration for the manufacturer.”
Williams
offered a reluctant, slight grin as the other two detectives snickered. Before
the chuckles died, the phone rang. The Five-0 chief, still smiling, collected
the handset before the second ring could complete. The call was a request from
Doctor Bergman for McGarrett and Williams to meet him at the morgue.
Dan bent
and pulled his jacket from the table. “Are there any mysteries left in this
case that require us to live through one of Doc’s dead body presentations?”
“Only the
ones we don’t know about, Danno,” Steve offered a sympathetic smirk as he
collected his own jacket from the rack.
NNN
When McGarrett and Williams arrived at the autopsy
room, they were surprised to see two tables covered in sheets.
“Deceased number one, Richard
Donaldson. Died of a blow to the left temporal bone. He was struck so
hard that his Zygomatic process was splintered in a
few locations,” he paused, dramatically noting McGarrett’s narrowed gaze. “In
layman’s terms, he died of a blow to the left side of his head, resulting in
trauma to the brain. And I can see in your eyes you are wondering how he could
have sustained such an injury from an auto accident. He couldn’t. This was an
instrument that had a sharp edge. Not a like a steering wheel
or dash board.”
The two detectives looked at each other and
blinked as McGarrett put into words what both men were thinking. “Could our
murderer have been murdered?”
“That would be my conclusion,” the medical man
nodded, and then with a flair, he moved to the second
table. “Now I’ll introduce you to victim number two.”
He whipped the sheet away like a magician to
reveal the body parts with which the detectives had become so familiar over the
course of the week. In pieces, in a macabre puzzle, were the severed parts of a
woman. The grotesque maze of anatomical bits made a complete corpse in a
bizarre lay-out on the slab. As far as the chief of Five-0 could tell, all the
toes, fingers, limbs, head, etc were all there, just not attached.
Williams spoke first as he studied the ghoulish
human puzzle. “What would compel that guy to steal a car and THEN murder and
hack up someone?”
“Maybe it’s the someone
that’s the key,” McGarrett breathed, not taking his eyes from the female
victim.
Bergman’s expression grew more animated. “Exactly! Meet Tien Chow.
Fingerprint check finally came through from immigration. Miss Chow was here on
a student visa from
“Okay, NOW we’ve got a point in common between
murder victim number one, her murderer, and the stolen transportation!” The
lead detective began pacing as he spoke.
The ME stepped over to a table with evidence bags
and lifted the larger one, containing a bundle of white material. “I’m not even
to the interesting part yet,” he smiled enthusiastically. “A woman’s shawl recovered
from the trunk of the car. Contains elements of perfume,
specifically Burning Ember.” He
then snatched up the smaller bag and waved it at the detectives. “Also
recovered – a broken fingernail, coated with pink nail polish, and smeared with
blood. The nail polish is a match for the polish found on Tien
Chow’s severed digits. Blood type- A positive – not consistent with the victim,
or Mr. Donaldson.” He leveled a gaze at the younger detective as he concluded,
“BUT consistent with that of Officer Danny Williams.”
After exchanging a surprised glance with his
colleague, McGarrett stared at the ME. “Are you sure, Doc? That puts Danno in
the trunk of that car WITH the victim!”
“And it explains why Danny had such a visceral
reaction to the Burning Ember – the woman’s shawl seems to have sustained a
spill of the cologne,” Bergman concluded.
Williams studied the dismembered corpse, the
evidence bags, and finally turned to McGarrett. “That means Donaldson killed
Chow and I happened onto the scene in time to get cracked on the head and
stuffed in the same trunk,” he twitched distastefully. “Glad I don’t remember
it after all.”
“Yeah, pretty nasty,” McGarrett agreed, but then
wandered back to the table where the first human form lay covered. “That leaves
us with a new case – who murdered Donaldson?”
Dan watched his boss move to stand beside the dead
man, and then his own eyes fell back to the re-assembled woman. “And what was Tien Chow doing in the parking garage at the
“Who’s Tien Chow?” The
female voice startled all three men, and their heads turned toward the door in
tandem to see it wafting shut in Dora’s wake. She quickly surveyed the two
gurneys as she approached, but did not react with more than a twitch of her eye
brows, and a quiet “oh.” With a matching clutch secured snugly under her arm,
Mrs. Bergman was fashionably attired in a pink, just-above-the-knee, Courtelle jersey dress as she greeted her spouse smile.
“Oh no,
she’s been shopping,” groaned the medical examiner.
Ignoring
her spouse’s mock complaint, Dora immediately focused on the detectives, who
both returned her smile. “So you boys are convinced that the man found dead in
With
brushing eye contact between each other, McGarrett and Williams privately
shared their reluctance to discuss the still-open case with anyone, even ohana
like Dora. Her extensive medical background and the probable work-related
pillow talk the Five-0 chief imagined went on between the very close couple made
her a very educated interrogator. Additionally, her persistence was difficult
to dodge. Deciding to attempt the brief answer which would be released to the
press within the next day or so, the lead detective canted his head slightly in
confirmation. “That’s the direction the evidence is taking us.”
“Interesting,”
she announced simply, and then turned immediate to the younger detective.
“Danny, how are feeling? You’re looking tired.”
“I’m
doing great, Dora – thanks though,” Williams returned with a crooked grin.
“Well,
just remember – you’ll heal more quickly if you get plenty of rest,” she
squeezed his arm as she offered the motherly advice. Before Dan could do more
than acknowledge the instruction with a slight tip of his head, the little
woman turned back to the head of Five-0. “Steve, which of your scenarios puts
the young lady in the parking garage with Mr. Donaldson?”
McGarrett
could think of a couple – the two now-deceased people came as a couple to steel
the car OR Donaldson waylaid the girl in the garage (Did she recognize him?)
either just before or just after he took out Danno. Instead of voicing the
possibilities, he avoided offering an answer. “Mrs. Bergman, you and Doc aren’t
going to any Halloween parties as Nick and Nora Charles, are you?”
“We just
might, Detective – and maybe we’ll see you there!” She winked. “So now about
the aquamarine ring found on the victim’s finger—”
“Dora,
Steve threw a hint the size of a manhole cover! This is still an active case
officially.”
“I know
that, dear, but I’m really—”
The ME
gently, but firmly grabbed his wife by the shoulders. “I’m REALLY too, but I’ve
gotta finish the paperwork on these two customers before we can leave, so if you’ll be so kind as to wait for me in the
office…”
Dora did
not have time to do more than offer a mildly frustrated frown at her spouse
before McGarrett, seeing an opportunity for him and his protégé to make good on
an escape, announced, “Doc, thanks for the very helpful information. Let me
know if anything else comes up.” Turning to Williams, he saw that his friend
did indeed look drained. “Let’s get you home, Danno.”
Without
any argument, Dan nodded. “G’night, Dora, Doc.”
“Good
night, boys,” Mrs. Bergman called as the couple watched the detectives disappear
out the door. As soon as the door clicked, Dora looked up at the physician. “I
just don’t believe we have all of the puzzle pieces in the right spot yet, but
I’ve figured out a way that we might be able to correct that.”
“Dora,”
the doc began tiredly as he released his hold on her and turned to cover the
corpses. “I know that
“
Draping
Donaldson’s form with the sheet, Bergman grimaced. “Oh that’s good, dear,
because my knee pads are at the cleaners.”
“I’ve
accepted an invitation to their Halloween luau at their place in Kahala
tomorrow evening,” she revealed with a hint of defiance in her tone and she
internally braced herself for the negative response she knew was coming.
He spun
to face her and sputtered, “You… you what?”
“We’re
going to a luau at my boss’s house tomorrow. What’s the harm in that?”
“We’re
talking about the leading heart surgeon in
“A
distinctive and valuable ring found on the finger of a murder victim,” she
reminded.
“Which
she says she left in the vehicle which was stolen by the murderer – what is
unreasonable about that?”
“Women do
NOT leave valuable rings in ash trays of cars!” She flung back, and then added,
“And there was something in her voice…”
Exasperated,
he turned and grabbed the sheet at the base of the woman’s body and, in one
sweeping movement, flung the sheet so that it fell to rest over the remains.
Dora took a step closer to him and continued to press her case. “We’ll go –
make nice with Trent and Alice, ask a few innocent questions, and then leave.
It will put any suspicions I have to rest, and I won’t mention it again.” When he didn’t respond, she offered, “We can
tell Steve about the plan if it would make you feel any better about it.”
The
comment elicited an immediate reaction from the physician. He turned to face
his wife. “Tell Steve what? That Alice Overton fed you a line about her ring,
and so we’re thinking that we need to put them on the list of suspects for… for
SOMETHING?”
"You don't want to look foolish to
Steve?" The question came out as a mild
accusation.
"That
too," he admitted.
“
“Your
intuition is NOT evidence to anyone except me!” His eyes flashed in anger as he
spun to make the announcement in her face.
She
caught her breath slightly and paused. The two stared at each other for several
seconds before the doctor finally sighed and broke eye contact. He slowly
removed the mask, which had been dangling from his neck, and dropped it into
the laundry bin by the door. The nurse watched him quietly until he turned back
towards her.
She spoke
softly. “Something was wrong with
The
woman, seeing her spouse was relenting, smiled with satisfaction and
approached. Wrapping both arms around one of his, she looked up at him as if
the question was a silly one. “If I knew that, darling, we wouldn’t have to
bother!”
NNN
When McGarrett glanced up from the report he’d
scanned, he noted that Kelly and Kokua were smirking and looking in
the direction of the couch. Glancing over to Williams, he shook his head. Danno
had his head back, as if asleep.
"Good work, gentlemen," he congratulated
a little too loudly. From the corner of his eye, he noted his second sat up a
little straighter. "Well, it's almost six. Let's call it a night."
Chin and Ben hastily called their good nights, as
if scurrying out before the boss changed his mind for leaving so early.
Williams glanced to the lanai door, as if thinking the same thing as his
colleagues.
"You're leaving before sunset?" Williams
smiled at his boss. "Must have a date."
"A very pretty one," the older detective
grinned as he buttoned his collar and adjusted his askew tie. "And smart AND talented." The joy faltered. "If she's everything
she's supposed to be."
Williams' eyes crinkled in knowing suspicion. "A set up?"
"Blind date with a doctor that Dora works
with."
Williams
let a crooked smile slip onto his face. "Ahh,
the doctor from
McGarrett’s
lip twitched slightly. “Thanks for the words of encouragement, Danno.”
“Where you going?"
"A social event.
The Halloween luau at the Overton’s beach house, remember?"
"Oh
yeah," the younger man responded softly as he slowly came to his feet.
“The highlight of my evening is going to be re-introducing my head to my
pillow.”
The head
of Five-0 gave his protégé a gentle pat on the back. “That sounds like a great
plan – I’m not holding my breath that you’ll stick to it.”
"I
will, Steve, I promise. I'm not up to anything but a nice relaxing night on the
lanai." His eyes sparked with
familiar mischief. "I’m certainly not up to one of Dora's blind dates.
Glad it's you and not me."
With a
dramatic sigh, McGarrett gestured for him to proceed out of the office.
"Tomorrow morning, Danno, you might hear me deliver the exact sentiment.
Dora's a nice lady, but I wish she'd mind her own business."
"Yeah. So which one of us is going to tell her that?" Williams
smirked as they exited the office.
NNN
Once changed out of his suit, Williams grabbed
some cold juice and sat on his lanai. As tired as he was, his mind would not
stop working. There was still something
bothering him about his own attack – the answer seemed to remain just around
the corner in his thoughts. With Donaldson dead and his body being found in the
car which had been stolen from the parking garage, HPD had closed the case. It
was probably for the best – it seemed that he was doomed to move on still
holding a piece in an apparently-complete puzzle. Shaking his head, the
detective silently issued the edict to his brain that it was time to let go of
the mental struggle. He collected the latest surfing magazine from beneath his
chair, and tried to focus on one of the articles, but it wasn’t more than a
couple minutes before he realized that his eyes were moving over the words
without passing comprehension to his head.
“That’s
it, Williams!”
Dan stood
and buttoned his favorite blue aloha shirt. Taking in the tropical scent on the
breeze, he decided that a drive down to
The
sidewalks were bustling with vacationers dressed in nice, casual wear for their
evening out at one of the hotel restaurants, or night shows, or luaus. Dan
slowly meandered his way through and past groups of happy people, chatting
about their plans for the next day, marveling at the incredible, acrobatic
nature of Polynesian dances, or perhaps discussing who back home would be
receiving post cards.
As he had
hoped, the pleasant sights and sounds of other humans carried his thoughts onto
a more relaxing plane. As strains of ukulele music danced in his ears, he began
planning a hiking trip. It had been ages since he’d hit any of his favorite
trails.
Suddenly,
the flash of Trent
Overton came into his mind with such precise clarity he took in a sharp breath, and pressed his back against a nearby light pole. He
desperately analyzed the invasive recollection, ignoring the people wandering
past him. It wasn’t
a captured mental picture of the doctor giving a speech, or being photographed
with the Governor, or dancing with his wife. Maddeningly, he couldn't grasp any
more! What on earth had caused that image to catapult
to the forefront of his thoughts like that? He looked up the street from where
he’d been standing a few moments earlier – a lei stand
vendor was busy helping a very pale elderly woman with her new Plumeria blossom
lei while the man Williams took to be her husband focused on re-organizing the
bills in his wallet.
All at
once feeling ill and disoriented, Dan tried to offer a casual smile at a group
of tourists as he edged around them to make his way back to the lei stand.
“Gert, I bet you could make one of them outta the peonies in
the back yard sometime,” the elderly gentleman proffered the comment as he
stuffed his wallet into his pants pocket.
“Harry,
somehow it doesn’t seem quite as romantic,” the man’s wife returned as part of
her attention was captured by the young man suddenly standing there.
Dan
smiled and offered a slight nod before he brought all of his senses to bear on
the puzzle. Abruptly, there it was again! His attention snapped to the man.
“Excuse
me, sir – can you tell me what kind of aftershave you’re wearing?”
The man
was startled only momentarily before he recovered with a broad grin, and an
I-told-you-so glance at his wife. “It’s called Mystery – I paid a little more
than I usually pay—”
Gert cut in, “You
mean you paid A LOT more than you usually pay for your witch hazel!”
An
annoyed glance was Harry’s only recognition of his spouse’s interruption. “But
I liked it, and the salesman told me that the odor—”
“SCENT –
you’re not a garbage truck!” The little woman again intervened.
Dan,
standing between the two, blinked uncertainly at the female of the pair before his attention re-focused on the male, who corrected his mistake
and continued.
“Yeah, I mean the scent was specially designed to
blend with my own personal chemistry – pretty incredible if you ask me!”
Williams nodded distractedly. “And I did… thank… thank
you, sir… have a nice…” He let the sentence trail off as he spun and began
jogging for his car, leaving the two perplexed tourists to watch him until he
vanished into the crowd.
NNN
'So far, so good,' McGarrett sighed shallowly as
he opened the door of the Mercury for his date.
Picking her up at her apartment on
Allowing the valet to take the keys to the sedan,
McGarrett took Emma's arm and they walked up the front path of the impressive
estate. As with most beachfront property in the exclusive, expensive, elite and
limited neighborhood of
The front door was a unique oval with a gold trim
around the circle, in an ostentatious reminder of the last-name initial of the
affluent owners. A butler directed them to an entryway with an alcove for
removed shoes, a ritual skipped for the convenience of the guests tonight. The
main living area, as well as the walls of the foyer and the
halls leading to the right and left of the door, were sparsely,
austerely decorated in Asian flavors.
Taking in the stunning view from the house --
right out to the backyard, the sandy beach and the pristine ocean beyond,
McGarrett had only a moment to appreciate the scene. Alice Overton stepped over to welcome and guide them onto
the spacious stone lanai, where most of the other guests mingled with drinks in
hand. As his very attractive date looked up at him with a smile, the detective
suddenly felt that perhaps the evening would go more pleasantly than he’d originally
anticipated.
NNN
The drive from the Bergman's Aina Haina beach
house, where they stayed during the week instead of their Makaha house in the
hills of the leeward coast, was not far from the Overton's Kahala mansion. On
the way, when they drove past the shopping center with Lolo's Barbeque,
In understanding, Dora patted his arm. “Dinner tomorrow night will be at Lolo’s.”
More grumbling ensued when they
pulled into the large curved driveway of the Overton manor. Parking in the front yard was
limited, so a valet service was parking guest vehicles around the neighborhood.
"Men and cars," she teased him as they
walked, arm in arm, along the front walkway.
One waiter with pu'pus and another with drinks met them a few
paces into the house.
The comfortable and tastefully decorated main room
overlooked an impressive bay and beach. The ocean front was a perfect backdrop
beyond the pool and lawns of the back yard. For a moment, Bergman stood,
appreciating the breathtaking scenery; the gray-blue shape of Koko Head Crater
defining the curve of the land to the left, the azure-orange streaked sky, the
rich blue and amber of the rolling ocean, the lush greens of the landscaped
lawns, the swaying palms. All lit a burnished gold from the dying sun, along
with the multicolored tones of the sea and the trees in the tawny rays of
sunset, accentuated by the light blue of the sparkling pool. The Oriental
garden theme extended back here, winding around the pool and lounge areas,
leaving expansive plots of rich soil where sparse foliage and tasteful Asian
sculptures accented, but did not dominate the ambiance
In the back yard, the party was already in full
swing. A luau buffet table was set along the shrubs to the left. Several
couples, all of them familiar to the Bergmans, were gathered nearby chatting
with Trent and Alice. To
Even as he watched the couple apparently enjoying
their conversation with each other, he pessimistically knew that something
would spoil it. It always did with Steve’s and Danny's romantic
entanglements! Why Dora would not rest as long as the two Five-0
detectives were single was beyond him. It was more than apparent to the medical
examiner that neither of the men was ready for marriage -- never would be as long as they worked in
Five-0. And leaving was just not going to happen. The unit was in their blood
-- both of them -- like mentor and student -- what Steve did Danny would follow,
he huffed. Injuries a number one case in point!
"Oh, look at that sunset," someone commented to their
companion as they passed behind him.
The shift of focus tripped him to a better plane. An island transplant,
Receiving another tug on the arm from his wife,
Bergman followed her out onto the lanai and into the sculptured back yard. The
ME grabbed more pu'pus and wandered after Dora as she
gravitated toward the Overtons.
“Mahalo,
Trent,” Dora returned.
“
“Thanks,
“It
certainly shows.” Dora panned the area before her focus returned to her boss.
“I keep meaning to ask you this…”
“I keep
meaning to tell you how sorry I am about your beautiful Cadillac being stolen.
I know it was fairly new---” the nurse intoned with a sympathetic air.
“Yes,”
Dora’s
eyes never left the physician’s face. “The business with Danny WAS especially
upsetting to
Overton
gave a dismissive shake of his head. “There was really nothing of value in the
vehicle when it was stolen. I’m the only one who drives… I mean drove it, and I
generally travel light.”
The
pleasant glance Dora tossed at her husband found him suddenly frozen with
Dora
gently placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “
“Oh look!
There’s Emma Kumar!” Dora announced excitedly. “I’m so glad that Steve brought
her! Excuse us, will you,
Her pace
slowed as she allowed her husband to catch up with her.
“Okay,”
the ME whispered. “You’ve effectively infected me with your paranoia.”
Maintaining
a pleasant smile, she nodded. “Finally. Next, we have
to speak to
“First,
I’m gonna go have a word with Steve, and you’d better at least say hi to Doctor
Kumar in case
“Right,”
Dora agreed as the couple angled away from each other to their respective
targets.
Mrs.
Bergman initiated her conversation with Emma by lightly probing about how she
was enjoying her first date with the head of the state police.
“You were
right, Dora – he’d be a dream catch, but I seem to have a little trouble
keeping his attention.”
Confusion
washed over the nurse’s expression as the lovely physician explained. “It’s
like he’s… he’s… on alert.”
Dora gave
a small dismissive wave with her hand. “Steve always has that on-duty air about
him – he’s a very dedicated police officer. But don’t take that as a sign of
disinterest.”
“Now what
ARE we whispering about, ladies?”
Both
women jumped slightly before they turned to see their hostess almost on top of
them. Dora recovered quickly and smiled. “Definitely girl talk,
Grateful
to her nurse friend for steering the conversation away from her date, Emma
agreed, “Yes,
Mrs.
Overton focused on Doctor Kumar. “Emma, I’m told you’re quite the wine
connoisseur – you MUST see my new wine cellar!” She glanced towards Niles
Bergman, the Five-0 chief, and another
Dora
hesitated, but the doctor next to her nodded in pleased agreement. “I would
LOVE to see it – if it’s no trouble,
“No
trouble at all,” Overton assured as she took one arm of each woman and began
walking toward the house.
With an
uncertain fleeting look over her shoulder in the direction of her oblivious
husband, she kept pace with the two taller women as they left the lanai and
re-entered the house proper.
“Dora,
since you were so kind as to ask about my ring the other day, I wanted to tell
you that the one found on that poor murdered girl could not have been mine – I
found it – behind my dresser!”
The
nurse’s eyes grew large. “Your ring…” If
Now
completely uncertain what Alice Overton was up to, Dora acknowledged an
interest with the sinking feeling that perhaps his boss’s wife sensed her
possibly misplaced distrust. Seeing the ring would certainly squelch any
further misgivings she had. “Well, if it’s no trouble. By the way, why aren’t
you wearing it?”
“One of
the prongs broke – I was afraid I’d lose the stone,”
Emma
nodded and led the way, followed by Dora, who carefully clutched the wood
railing all the way down. Their hostess brought up the rear. “This room is
temperature and humidity controlled – much like a refrigerator – to insure
minimal degradation of the wine,” Alice explained as the two women approached
the caged area behind which were numerous racks filled with wine bottles canted
carefully on their sides. She quickly lifted the keys from a hook on the far
wall, and unlocked the floor-to-ceiling gate. With a gracious smile, she bade
them to enter.
NNN
To Doctor
Bergman’s annoyance, just as he arrived within conversational distance of
McGarrett, a casual acquaintance joined him in lock step. Excited
to meet Steve, the general practitioner enthusiastically launched into a series
of questions about recent Five-0 cases.
Well
versed in the art of polite avoidance, the head of Five-0 fielded the queries
without answering the questions, all the while noticing the medical examiner’s
growing and thinly-veiled impatience with the banal courtesies.
Bergman
glanced over to where his wife had been standing a few minutes ago with Doctor
Kumar. His brow furled as he slowly panned the lanai in an attempt to spot her.
Not seeing his gregarious spouse out here mingling with many of their friends,
the image of Dora skulking into the house and poking around in desk drawers and
closets in search of clues suddenly dashed through his mind – a scene that
suddenly seemed like a distinct possibility.
“Hmm,
excuse me,” he whispered and slipped off to purposefully wander towards the
house.
McGarrett
watched with distracted interest as the physician headed for the indoors.
Covertly
opening doors and checking rooms, Bergman jumped when someone touched his
shoulder.
Alice
Overton started and quickly pulled her hand back.
“
Alarm was
written on Mrs. Overton’s face. “
Now, true
fear gripped him. “What is it? Where is she?”
“I was
showing her and Emma our new wine cellar – she took a misstep and fell down the
steps!”
“My God! Where is
she now?” He demanded as she guided him down the hallway.
“Still in
the cellar – I’ve called an ambulance. Emma is with her now,”
As they
rounded the corner, the pair almost rushed headlong into McGarrett. “Doc! What’s—”
“Steve!
Dora’s hurt!” The medical examiner’s face was flushed with emotion.
Immediately
alarmed, McGarrett turned to follow the distraught physician. Within seconds,
“
McGarrett
stepped onto the landing as the physician rushed down to his distraught wife’s
side. The detective sensed something was amiss, but his legendary sixth sense
kicked in a second too late. A hard shove to his back sent him careening down
the steps on top of Bergman, three-quarters of the way down the steps.
NNN
As soon as the cage of the wine cellar locked,
McGarrett was at the wire mesh, his fingers interlaced with the thin, but
secure, enclosure. Designed to keep the rare wine protected against any sneaky
domestic help or other intruders, it was also an effective restraint for
overly-curious medical professionals and the head of Five-0.
“You WILL NOT get away with this! Either one of you!”
McGarrett shouted, a trickle of blood trailing from his nose, his anger and
frustration making his voice raw. He shook the cage that was too strongly built
to give way to his wrath. He looked at the cage keys hanging only yards away by
the bottom of the stairs. So close and yet impossibly far
away. “Overton!
Don’t be stupid!”
Standing safely away from the enclosure,
“Stupid? That’s already happened. Several times, Steve.” She turned the icy disdain toward her
husband, then back to stare at the Bergmans. “I don’t know EXACTLY WHAT you
know, but it’s clear that it’s a little too much. We had to clean up after
With a fearful glance at his wife,
Mrs. Overton directed her attention back to her
prisoners. “This was a very inconvenient evening for this to have come to a
head! But, in another hour, the rest of our guests will have left through the
FRONT door.”
She trotted up the stairs, and when she reached
the landing, she turned and called back down the steps pleasantly. “Oh, this
cellar is fairly soundproof, but should you be able to alert some unlucky soul,
that life will be forfeit like yours!”
The basement door slammed shut and locked with
resounding finality. McGarrett slammed both fists against the wire and stalked
away, pacing in furious, sharp strides back and forth in the small confines of
the narrow cage lined with bottles of expensive liquor. Doctor Kumar and Dora
kept to the sides, away from the cop’s strident velocity to work out his fury.
“What on earth is this about?” The uninitiated Doctor
Kumar maintained her cool, but was clearly on the verge of losing it.
“It’s a long story that started with murder and
assault,” McGarrett breathed.
“And grand theft auto,” Bergman intoned sullenly.
“AND don’t forget dismemberment,” Dora added as
she bent to check on her husband’s ribs.
The muffled sound of people upstairs occasionally
filtered through the ventilation system. With one more frustrated slam of his
fist against the cage, the Five-0 chief growled, “We can’t shout!”
Finally, the detective came to rest standing and
leaned his head against the metal to focus on the sounds coming from above.
The minutes dragged into almost an hour before
noises, like doors crashing, drawers opening and closing, echoed from the vent
above the wine cage. From the shouts – mostly female – it was clear that the
Overtons were fighting, and that the action had moved into what McGarrett
estimated to be the formal living room almost directly above them.
“What are we going to do? How
can we kill them all?”
“You should have thought of
that before you killed that girl!”
“It was an accident!”
“Which was
nearly discovered by Danny Williams!
THEN, you didn’t hit him hard enough!”
McGarrett’s gasp at that remark brought the other
three prisoner’s heads around to stare at him. “
“An impulse to cover up the crime,” Bergman
concluded.
“A near homicide,” McGarrett harshly reminded.
“You are such an idiot!”
“I made a mistake! I admit it,
but YOU made it worse,
“You’re just fortunate that I was
willing to clean up after you, Trent! So
just shut up! You started this mess with
that tramp – and you GAVE HER MY RING!”
“How was I to know he would
find out and blackmail me and then hack her up—”
“Well he did, and I had to
eliminate him for it!
McGarrett rolled his eyes when
“We have to get out of here,” McGarrett shot out,
at the end of his patience.
“I hope you’ll forgive me, Steve, if I decline any
further social invitations from you,” Emma breathed in surprisingly-controlled
show of dark humor.
McGarrett’s lips pressed together in a firm line
of dismay and shrugged. The story of his life. Before
he could respond,
“The valet service left the
keys with me. Hide their cars,
“How can we get away with
this?” The male voice cried.
“
“Oh, please. You should have
thought of that before you got us into this mess!”
“Five-0 will find out. Do you
think Danny Williams will let Steve’s disappearance go uninvestigated? He’ll
tear us apart!”
That comment brought a grim smile to the chief of
the state police. Yeah, Danno. Asleep
in his bed right now, as McGarrett had urged him to do, and far away from
helping now. If only the oft allegation of mind-reading was a reality.
While they thought alike with uncanny frequency, they had not perfected any
paranormal thought-sharing capabilities. Too bad.
Steve could use his friend’s help right now.
McGarrett sucked in a sharp breath. Kill
Danno! No! Danno would never see it coming – just like
that initial attack in the garage.
“Poor Danny,” Dora sighed a quavering whisper,
echoing Steve’s thoughts. “He’ll never see the danger from the Overtons.”
The sound of a bell echoed, and Dr. Kumar spoke
hopefully. “Was that the doorbell?”
“Yes,” Dora confirmed.
“Danny, what a surprise!” The announcement of the new guest came through
more loudly than the rest of the conversation.
“Hello,
The others looked to McGarrett’s who had gone cold
with fear. Danno! What was he doing
here?! Walking right into the devil’s
lair without knowing the danger!
“Danno! Danno!” he screamed, beating against the wire
cage.
NNN
“Did you hear something?”
“
“Uh, yes -- sorry… dear.”
“Sorry you missed the luau, Danny, we finished a little
early. I didn’t expect you. Steve mentioned you were still recovering from that
terrible attack.”
“When did Steve leave, do you know?”
“Sorry, I didn’t really notice,”
The
invitation sent panic like an electric shock, through Steve’s system. “Danno! Don’t trust
her! Danno!”
“Sure,” Williams
replied as the door closed.
McGarrett’s
heart started a heavy beat in his chest. Danno had just walked into the
trap! And there was nothing he could do
locked up down here! Helpless!
“If you don’t mind, I’ve got a couple questions for you,
Doctor Overton,” Danno’s mild voice
echoed. “A couple of things are nagging
at me.”
The
announcement brought McGarrett to complete stillness, even holding his breath,
afraid of what Williams might say to endanger himself
even more. Was that even possible? The Overtons planned to murder him along
with their other prisoners.
NNN
Feeling a
little tense, a little uncomfortable, a little thrilled with the excitement he
always felt when a case was coming together, Williams stood to the side of the
door. It was hard to put into words his strange suspicions, questions and
guesses, but now that he was here, he would go ahead. He had hoped to talk to
Steve, but Steve wasn’t here. No reason to waste this opportunity.
“I’m
trying to lock down a few more puzzle pieces on our dismemberment case, and I’m
having trouble trying to figure out how Miss Chow’s body got into your vehicle
before it was actually stolen.”
“I – uh – how would I know?”
It was
coming together in his mind, formulating. He knew there was something more
going on here. “Did YOU know Miss Chow?”
The
detective’s ears perked up as the background noise which had been described as
a television caught his attention again.
Along
with the fresh, night air and the wispy wash of ocean mist,
came the scent of MYSTERY Aftershave.
With that
olfactory evidence hitting him in the face, the answer came crashing in on Dan.
Overton was lying. The trunk. He remembered now! The aftershave –
“I only have one more question for you,” Dan
tilted his head slightly as his gaze pierced Trent Overton. “Why is your
TELEVISION calling my name!”
Dan,
knowing he was in a fight for his life, dove towards Mrs. Overton and her gun
just as
NNN
“Danno! Danno!” McGarrett beat on the wires until his fists
went numb.
McGarrett heard the conversation unfold with
horror, but he gasped as he heard – even above his cries and rattling of the
cage -- thuds and scrapes and crashes. A violent struggle was taking place just
overhead. Twenty seconds into the melee, there was a loud thud, then a gunshot.
Suddenly there was silence. The quiet unnerved him
and he held his breath. What happened up there to Danno? He started yelling
again, his voice scraping with the strain of his calls.
A firm hand gripped his shoulder. “Steve…” Bergman
shook his head and patted the frantic cop. “It was a valiant try,” he
whispered, shaken. “Danny – he gave it his best, I knew he would for you. For us.”
It was hard for the cop to breathe and his fingers
gripped onto the wires until they ached. No, Danno had to be okay. But he
couldn’t have handled two aggressors in his condition. The fear that Danno had
died trying to save him rippled waves of illness through his tight stomach.
Suddenly, the basement door was unlocked, the bolt
thrown back with a ringing echo. The Bergmans hugged each other, and Kumar
whispered that they were about to die.
The only fear coursing through the police
detective was his dread that the Overtons would be lugging Danno’s body. Well,
they would have a real surprise when they got here. He was going to hold off
and not let his anguish erupt into impulsive actions. Not like
The door opened. His clenched fists were his only
outward show of the suppressed rage.
A single figure, silhouetted against the light,
staggered down the steps, sliding along the wall. When a few
steps from the floor, the pale light of the cellar cast a subdued glow on – not
their captors – but Dan Williams.
“Danno!”
The younger detective fell more than walked the
rest of the stairs and stumbled, falling, when he reached the floor. McGarrett
sucked in a sharp breath, Dora and
“Danno! Danno!”
“Amazing,”
“Steve?”
Ignoring the commentary, McGarrett concentrated on
getting his injured friend’s attention. Williams looked confused and hurting.
“Where are you hurt, Danno?”
“Looks like he’s got another head injury,” Bergman
growled with more irritation than sympathy.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Dora commiserated. “We’ll
help you.
The words flung him back with a ridiculous déjŕ vu
of the scene in the garage. The bleeding and torn Williams then,
like now, staggered, dazed and injured. Full circle.
He had to get his friend to help them out of here so the doctors could treat
him.
“Danno, can you reach the keys? They’re hanging by
the stairs!”
The wounded man crawled on his hands and knees to
the staircase. Every inch seemed painful and agonizing. Steve winced at the
slow progress, hoping this was not causing more damage to his friend,
encouraging him along the way with muttered words of support. Finally, Williams
reached the wall, pulled himself up by the banister and grabbed the keys. The
others in the cage cheered, but McGarrett only sighed in relief. The reaction
turned swiftly to a groan of anguish as Williams slid down the wall and onto
the floor again.
“Danno, you can do this,” was his quiet,
encouragement, trembling with an intensity now urgent
rather than boisterous. He knew this was difficult for Williams, and for
himself, but with a little more effort this would all soon be over. A thought
of more threats flashed into his mind and he wondered what had happened to
their captors. “Danno, just get the keys over here and we can help you.”
Williams nodded but did not move.
“Where are the Overtons?”
“Upstairs?”
The injured man didn’t sound like he was sure.
“Just get the keys over here, Danno.”
Nodding, Williams tossed the keys and ring. The
heavy metal fell short, but skidded and slid all the way to the cage. Again,
the spectators cheered, but McGarrett ignored them, wrestling to get the keys
through the metal wiring. They would not fit!
“Allow me, Steve.”
Doctor Kumar sidled over and took the keys, her small hands and fingers
working deftly, with the skill of a surgeon, to work them up toward the lock.
Dora’s thin fingers then manipulated a key into
the lock, but it would not fit. She tried the second one. It inserted smoothly.
When she turned it, the lock sprang open, along with the door. Both women
tumbled out.
Hesitating only briefly over chivalrous instincts,
McGarrett leaped over their forms and jogged over to Williams, leaving Bergman
behind to handle the gallantry. Williams’ eyes were closed. When McGarrett
shook his shoulder, the officer nodded groggily.
“Danno, you okay?”
“Mmm,
yeah. Tired.”
The Bergmans and Kumar crowded around, pushing the
chief cop out of the way in favor of medical proficiency. The three quickly
determined Williams was suffering from some bruises and abrasions, but did not
seem to have sustained another concussion. Only a thorough medical exam would
determine that.
“Before we call the coast clear, I think we better
check on the Overtons first,” McGarrett decided, still crouching close to the
circle of people. He gripped onto Williams’ arm. “Danno, what
about the Overtons?”
“
The nearly incoherent phrase would have seemed
amusing under other circumstances. Steve grimaced and repeated his question.
“Upstairs.”
“Okay. Are they still a threat?” the boss stressed
impatiently.
“Nah.
“They’re mad. What did you do to them?”
“Handcuffed ‘em. Alice and
Trent. Cuffed them. Disarmed
them.” He fumbled in his pocket
and pulled out a revolver.
McGarrett snatched up his weapon. “Good work,
Danno.” He patted his friend on the
shoulder, proud that even in diminished condition,
Williams managed to save their lives. He was anxious to hear the details of the
story, but for now it was enough that they were all alive. “I’ll go up and
check it out,” he decided, before allowing Dora to head to the main level to
call for help.
Trotting up the stairs, he was not surprised to
find Mrs. Bergman at his heels, and knowing it was a waste of time to convince
her otherwise, he cautiously peered around the corner of the basement door.
Grunts, groans and curses could be heard close by. Warily scanning the area,
he, with Dora in his shadow, followed the noise to the living room.
Alice and Trent Overton were wrestling around on
the floor. Each had one hand cuffed, connected through the ornate, looped
handle of the massive wood door. It was almost enough for amusement, but he was
far too angry with these two criminals to find any humor in their plight.
McGarrett exchanged a relieved grin with Mrs.
Bergman as he told her to call for an ambulance.
NNN
“I think
this is where I came in,” Dan groaned as he accepted the medicine in the cup
from a heavy-set nurse. After gingerly downing the meds with a sip of water,
the detective let his head drop back onto the pillow. With a brief nod at the
Bergman’s, the duty nurse slipped from the room.
“At
least, your newest injuries were remarkably minor, considering,” Doc Bergman
almost cheerfully related. Dora nodded slightly as she stood next to her
husband at Williams’ bedside.
McGarrett,
atypically dressed as well in one of his trademark long-sleeved luau shirts,
stood on the opposite side of the bed from the Bergmans. His eyes narrowed in
accusation. “What I’d like to know is WHY you didn’t bring your suspicions to
my attention before we were overrun with the enemy.”
“I’m
sorry, Steve – it just seemed so preposterous – so much of the evidence pointed
towards Donaldson.”
“Hmmm,”
Dan’s eyes were shut, but he was clearly listening. “Yeah, the body in the
guy’s freezer was pretty incriminating.”
“Nevertheless,
you didn’t share everything you knew!”
Dora
remained quiet as her spouse weakly defended the two of them. “Dora’s feeling
was ALL we had to go on – and it certainly didn’t match up with any facts we
had at the time.”
“What
exactly do you think Danno had to go on? That’s what we do sometimes – follow
our instincts in the face of contradictory evidence!” The Five-0 chief’s tone
grew sharper as he considered the possible outcome. “If Danno hadn’t decided to
chase down a tourist wearing Mystery Aftershave, and followed through on a
troubling image it brought to mind, the three of us – and Emma Kumar – would
probably be sleeping with the fishes!”
“Steve,”
Dan grimaced. “Could you take it down a few decibels?”
A hint of
chagrin momentarily washed over McGarrett’s features as he responded with a
light touch to his friend’s arm. “Sorry, Danno.”
“Don’t be
too hard on Doc and Dora, Steve,” Williams requested. “It just took Doc a
little extra time to give in to his woman’s intuition.”
With the
humorous plea lodged, the Five-0 chief felt a measure of his own humor
returning. Danno was on the mend, and the twisted truth in a complicated case
had been uncovered.
With a
sigh, McGarrett abandoned his chastisement of the obviously contrite couple. “I
want the two of you to promise me that you’ll retire your gum shoe ways, and
leave the field work to us.”
Bergman
nodded. “No more playing Mister and
Missus North.”
“We
promise, Steve,” Dora replied innocently.