Special thanks to all my readers for their patience and understanding regarding delays in the posting of updates for this story.
Chapter 36
(Edited By "Book 'em Again")
Gerry Sykes, a hulk of a man, sat at the small, round dining table, rifling through the pages of the local paper, until he came across the sports section. His eyes came to rest on the grey scale photo of the winner of last night's boxing match. The sudden ringing of the telephone which sat on the cluttered breakfast bar broke his concentration and caught his immediate attention. Abandoning the paper in a heap on the table, Sykes scrambled out of his chair which toppled backward onto the tiled floor. He bounded toward the breakfast bar just as a young plain-featured Hawaiian woman reached for the telephone receiver.
"Leave it!" Sykes snapped at the woman who flinched and cowered back to her retreat in the corner by the refrigerator. He grabbed the receiver on the fourth ring and brought it up to his ear. "Yeah."
"Put Kanoa on." A husky voice sounded on the other line.
"He ain't here." Sykes grated hostilely into the mouth piece. He hated playing second fiddle to Joey Kanoa. As far as Billy, Luka and he, was concerned, they were all in on the deal together. The deal that could land them all in jail for a very long time if anything went wrong. While at the same time, it was also a deal that could earn them enough money to leave the island and start over on the mainland.
"Put him on. I don't have time to play games!" This time the voice deepened and rose in volume.
"Look…" Sykes' retort was cut short when he saw a young, tall Hawaiian man strode into the room towards him. The man signaled for the phone receiver to be passed to him and the manner in which he carried himself offered no room for hesitation. Sykes let out a pent up breath of frustration and annoyance as his temper almost got the better of him. He loosened his grip on the receiver and passed it to his accomplice, Joey Kanoa, before he brushed passed him in a huff and picked up his chair from the floor. He sat back down and glared at Kanoa.
"Kanoa here." Joey announced into the mouthpiece. He had been anticipating a call and knew the person on the other line had to be the expected caller.
"What the hell happened last night? I thought I made it clear that there was to be no shooting!" The caller almost shouted on the other line and Joey had to move the receiver an inch away from his ear.
"Look, I fired a warning shot! Luka lost control of da wahine. She was pilikia! If I had wanted to kill her I wouldn't miss, Bruddah. Believe me I never miss." Joey's own temper matched that of the man on the other line.
"Lose the gun. They found the slugs an hour ago and I don't want any loose ends. Meet me behind Pier 11 at two o'clock and you'll get your money. Just remember, I want the cop in one piece or there'll be no final payment. No ticket off the island!" the caller ordered followed by an audible click when the line went dead. Joey slammed the receiver down onto the cradle eliciting a frightened gasp from the corner of the kitchen. He looked up and sighed at the young, troubled woman, who stood biting her already chipped nails.
"Hey kaikaina. Everything's gonna be alright, ya hear?" Joey stepped forward and reached out to his sister. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and smiled wanly before turning back to face Sykes seated at the table. "Go do something useful and give da pig some water. Let him use da bathroom down dere to wash up."
"We're not running a five star resort here and I ain't a baby sitter for pigs, Kanoa!" Sykes' face reddened as his temper flared up at once.
"And I ain't cleanin' up after his mess unless you care to! Dis is my grandmother's house and after we're gone, I don't want any evidence left behind. Besides we don't get our free ticket outta here if da cop dies. Which reminds me, what did you and Billy do ta him last night?" Kanoa demanded heatedly.
"Nothing! Why?" Sykes knew what Kanoa was eluding him to but the truth of the matter was, the over-weight haole man couldn't care less for the treatment of the detective they abducted.
"I checked up on him last night. He was out cold! I told ya not to work him over!" Kanoa reprimanded.
"Oh come on, man. I hit him once for tryin' to escape. He cut his hands free. D'ya want him running back to McGarrett? You're one to talk! Who hit him over the head last night at the cop's place, huh? Ya hit him real good, man!" Sykes scoffed as he drew out a cigarette from the crushed packet in his shirt pocket and lit it.
"Dat was different! I shouldn't have….Look he ain't goin' anywhere with dose chains, Bruddah!" Kanoa retorted one last time then stormed out the back door.
Sykes sat back in his seat dragging on his cigarette and throwing a glance over at Kanoa's sister who looked away and scuttled out of the room. Sykes let out a chuckle but regretted it when he inhaled too deeply on his cigarette and a coughing spasm over took him. Cursing inwardly, the middle aged man recovered his wind and let his mind wonder back to the young Hawaiian girl who he knew was off limits. For the time being. He thought luridly.
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"Okay, let's take it from the top." The head of Five-O stopped his incessant pacing and turned to face his men Kono, Dawson and HPD sergeant Duke Lukeka. "We know that there were at least three people involved in the attack on the Kelly's home and Danno's abduction. Nothing was taken which rules out robbery as a motive. The fact they ambushed their victims also tells us this was pre-meditated. Duke, any luck on the slugs? Shell casings?"
"We dug a slug out from a tree in the backyard of Chin's house. I'm waiting for ballistics to report back. It looks like a .32." The senior HPD officer reported his findings.
"Stay on it Duke. I want to know the make and and anything else it can tell us." Steve responded confidently. "Kono, any word from Che on the prints he dusted?"
"Yeah, he says he'll need a couple of days, maybe more, to go through all da prints and discount dose found at da house belonging to da family or to us." Kono's news was met with less enthusiasm and more disappointment.
"Danno may not have that much time, especially if he needs medical attention. Keep pressing, Kono." Steve said the last more as a plea than a command as he turned to face the last person in the room, Trevor Dawson. "Dawson, have you taken statements from the neighbors?"
"No one saw or heard anything that we can count as useful. The Polanskis who lives next door weren't home last night during the hours the crime took place. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery who lives on the other side are almost completely deaf and both say they were in bed by 9 o'clock. A few of the surrounding neighbors heard a shot and breaking glass. They all say that it had been either too dark to see anything or they thought it was just a bunch of kids messing around on the streets and didn't bother to give it the light of day." The silver haired detective took out his notebook from inside his suit jacket pocket and flipped it open to the relevant page before passing it to Steve. The lead detective took the note book and scanned the names and addresses along with the statements.
"Okay gentlemen. I'm making this case priority one. Kono, I want to know everyone Frank Harper has come into contact, besides those already interviewed from Kaimuki Church, between the time of his daughter's kidnapping and when we booked him. That includes the press, protestors, and people he knew personally like friends and ex-work colleagues. Duke, let me know as soon as you hear back from ballistics. Get Kokua to bring in Mrs. Harper. Maybe she can help shed some light. It's her daughter's funeral today so tell him to wait until after the service. Let's go gentlemen!" Steve's last command spoke of a man striving to find his second-in-command and making sure he was brought back safely. At Dawson's enquiring look, Steve added, "Dawson, I need a word with you."
"Don't worry Steve, we'll find him." Duke's voice of reason would normally calm Steve but in the current situation, McGarrett was too wired up with worry and deep concern for Dan's well-being and safe return.
"Yeah Duke, I know we will. Even if it means I got to to turn over every rock on this island to find him alive, then, by God, I will!" Steve passionately replied. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself then nodded at the men who started for the door, leaving the two detectives behind. The door closed after them and Steve motioned for Five-O's newest recruit to sit. Dawson complied, confusion etched on his face as he sat in front of Steve's desk.
"Dawson, why are you here?" Steve voiced his question as he sat in his chair behind his desk.
"What kind of question is that, Steve?" Dawson shot back, leaning into his seat smugly.
"A man's life is at stake here. Danny Williams is a good man, Dawson. Now, I don't have the time or patience to play games. The last time we spoke about your ill feelings for my detective, I remember telling you we have no place for you here. You're a proud man, always have been, yet you seem to have brushed everything I said aside. Why?" Steve's steel blue eyes searched Dawson's face for an answer to the question that had burned through him long enough.
"Steve, if you want me to leave, I will. I had my bags packed that night when you came over but I thought about the old days. You know, when you and I were pals. Sure, we grow older and we change. Look what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry, okay. I was wrong treating the kid…treating Williams the way I did. I've got to tell you, he's got a strong right hook!" Dawson paused and pointed at the corner of his mouth where the cut was still visible from where Dan hit him. "I want to start over Steve, if you'll let me." Dawson's face turned serious and apologetic.
"Five-O has zero tolerance for your methods of extracting information out of witnesses and suspects, Dawson. I know all about your reputation on the mainland. You may have put away a lot of bad guys, but over here we do things by the book. We do things my way, Dawson. My way! Can you handle that?" Steve eyed the detective suspiciously. He wondered if he could ever trust the man who he had known for many years; a man who was self-serving and held the belief that he could bend the law to suit him.
"I admit I have my faults. We all do. I'm no saint but I try to do my best to keep the streets where I come from safe for everyone to walk on. I've heard many things about you too, Steve, over on the mainland but I learn to siphon out what I think is true and what I think are just rumors designed to discredit a cop's reputation. We're from different worlds Steve. I don't tell you how to do your job so please don't tell me how I should do mine. Right now I'm here in your world and I will do everything in my power to abide by your standards and respect your ways. You're two men down. Face it my friend, you need me and I need a fresh place to start. The mainland has gotten too big for me to taste the clean air. What do you say? Take me in or send me back, it's your call." Dawson kept a neutral tone of voice and watched Steve's demeanor as the head of Five-O fought an inner struggle on whether or not to believe the mainland detective. Come on Steve. You know you want to believe me. You need me to find Danny boy. Dawson waited, deep in thought as Steve sat in silence for what seemed to be a long time.
"Alright." Said Steve at long last as he rose from his chair and extended his hand in a reconciliatory gesture. "Welcome aboard, Dawson."
Dawson smiled and vacated his seat, accepting Steve's invitation to let bygones be bygones as he shook hands with the man he use to call friend. I have you right where I want you, Steve.
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A sliver of light streamed through the small, narrow, grimy window of the basement that held Dan Williams captive. The detective stirred as the morning sun shone through heavy eyelids. The hard cement floor reminded him of the various aches radiating throughout his body as he moved his arms and legs to promote circulation in his stiff joints. Slowly he opened his eyes and blinked away the sleep that blurred his vision. A noise ahead alerted him and he lay still. More light filtered into the room from a short staircase near the window. Boots began descending the stairs and Dan closed his eyes, feigning sleep. The bruise on his lower back was a painful reminder of what could be in store, planted by a fist the last time his captors had paid him visit. Dan lay quietly in wait, his body tensing and his breathing growing unsteady. A migraine pierced his skull and waves of nausea began to hit him. The footsteps drew nearer and a shadow fell over his inert body.
A feeling of helplessness and dread flooded through Danny's mind as he lay still, not knowing what his captor's next move will be.