“Tell me, Mr. Espendari. Why did it take you almost three hours to find your way to our police station, when it's a five minute walk down the street?" Nesstor asked. "You told me you'd be right behind us. I trust you're an honest man. Am I mistaken?”
“I apologize, Detective Nesstor. I had a small portion of the fish, in error of course, maybe it made me ill. I could not breathe for a moment. However, I feel much better now.”
“You're a curious man to me. I noticed quite a bit of the fish was eaten, or am I mistaken?”
“Possibly I had a few mouthfuls, but it does affect everyone differently, Detective. Does it not?”
“Yes. Dead and more dead if you eat as much as seemed to be missing from you plate.”
“Tell me, Detective. How exactly would you know my portions before you came in and why the questions? I helped you apprehend Mrs. Gifford, did I not? I did all you asked of me, and now you act as though I am the criminal?”
“Funny thing about the other day, when we met, another Detective who works with me, claims the building you were walking out of is the exact one where he claims you work. Yet, when I asked you about it, you told me no.”
“Please enlighten me, Detective. What does any of this have to do with Barbara?”
“I don’t know if it does or not. However, I find it very odd that I followed you on more than one occasion, while you were following Mrs. Gifford. If you knew her so well, why follow her? That can wait. Tell me about the Checkers record company. Do you know Johnny Joe Jackson? The building you were coming out of the other day is the same building where they have their office. Tell me, Mr. Espendari, why were you in that building?”
“I really don’t feel I need to answer all these questions of yours, Detective. Have I broken a law, because I entered a downtown office building?”
“No, but see that man standing against the wall with the white shirt and black tie?”
“I see several men with white shirts and black ties, can you be more specific?”
Nesstor sighed. “Look, pal. I don’t know who you really are, or what you have to do with two ongoing murder investigations, but I don’t like the idea that you seem to be associated with the two people I'm now investigating for murder.”
“Two investigations? Surely, Detective, you cannot link me with more than Mrs. Gifford, and I only knew her casually through my business dealings.”
“And what are those businesses again? Refresh my memory will you please, Mr. Espendari, or is it Amison today?”
“Do I need to speak with an attorney, Detective? Is this how you harass all, who attempt to help you do your job in stopping criminals? You asked for my help and I gave it, and now you are playing a game of twenty questions. This messiness seems so unfortunate.”
“Mr. Espendari, we checked our records, we can't find a record of you anywhere. Barbara Gifford told us that you came to her for marketing advice for a wine company. Espendari Wines. No one has ever heard of it, not even in Italy. Believe me that long distance call was not easy for me to get the Chief to approve around here. Finding someone who speaks Italian was even more difficult. Is there something you want to tell me here, Mr. Whoever you are?”
“I am who I say I am. Now if you would like to question me about Mrs. Gifford I will try to assist you. If not, I believe my next appointment is calling me.”
“Why does that man standing over there swear to me that you tried to sign his brother to a recording contract? The same record company that has its offices in the building you were walking out of the other day. If you answer me that, you can leave. I don’t need any more information from you about Barbara Gifford. She agreed to plead to all she knows as long as we leave her charity money alone.”
“I cannot account for your associates eye issues or perhaps mistaken identity, Detective. I can only assure you I am not the man he thinks I am, and I am certainly not the man you think I am.”
“We took the glass you were using at the table, Mr. Espendari. I'll have our lab dust it for prints. I'll find out your true identity and connect the dots to the murder of Mrs. Simpson and Mr. Clive Johnson. I thought all along it was Johnny Jackson, who killed those people, but maybe I was wrong. May I see some identification please Mr.?”
“Detective, I am not a citizen of your country, so I do not have any local identification that would be of any use to you. I have a passport, but sadly it is not with me.”
“Perhaps we can have Officer Piker escort you back to where it is. Then we can allow you to continue with your day. That is once you prove to me who you say you are.”
“Detective Nesstor, assuming of course you are who you say you are. You asked me to let you know if Barbara Gifford ever attempted to poison me and I did. You asked me with help with her fingerprints and I provided you a set. I am positive you have never seen me commit a crime in your town or you would not be allowing me to leave even to find my identification. Now, if you want to charge me with something please do, otherwise I am walking out of here."
“Yes, whether you are either in handcuffs or not will be your choice, but either way, Officer Piker is going with you.”
“Fine Detective, have your Officer walk me back to my room. I will show him my passport. But after I show him my passport, please don’t bother me again.”
“I'm not making any promises, Mr. Espendari, Oh I’m sorry; I meant to say Amison.”
Once back to my apartment, I really didn’t have any issues showing Officer Piker my passport. I did have one as Amison and one as Espendari. I only had to hope I opened the right one if he was looking over my shoulder.
“Here you are, Officer. My identification, now if there is nothing more, I will bid you a good day and safe journey back to your station.”
The burly officer frowned and flipped through the pages of the passport several times. “I don’t know about this passport. You claim to be from Italy, yet the first marking has you leaving the United States, not entering. Possibly we should have Detective Nesstor take a closer look. You need to come with me.”
Officer Piker led me back to the street. On your way to the police station, old man with white hair suddenly fell to the ground at Officer Piker’s feet.
“Help me, kind sirs. I think I've broken a hip with my fall. Please, call for help.”
With all the excitement and a small crowd now watching what the officer might do to aid the broken man, he forgot all about me and started to speak to the bystanders.
“Don’t move, old man," Pike said. "I'll get some assistance. No one touch him. I'll be right back with help.”
Officer Piker ran down the street leaving me behind. The old man with long white hair immediately stood up and gave me a long stare. He then smiled and said, “You didn't think I'd allow you to be locked up did you? Now you need to leave and so do I. No time for questions. Get lost.”
I ran back to the place I was staying, grabbed up my personal belongings and like a ghost, I disappeared from the streets of Chicago and back to our compound.
“Caeles, the Council understands this assignment took a heavy toll on you. Your subject masked her true soul well. However, in doing your duty to our people, you offered a needed jolt to our resources. We thank you for your work. In your report, you spoke of a man who was following you, a Detective. Are you suggesting he will be a problem for us in the future?”
“I do not think so Elder Orcus. As long as I stay away from the Chicago area for a while. Despites his words, he really did not have anything to connect me to the other murders. He might have my fingerprints, but they cannot connect me to any murders.”
“As you know," Orcus said, "our finger prints aren't on file anywhere in the world. Nor are our birth records. He will never be able to find you through them. However, for security measures, I will have your prints stolen from the crime lab. After all, if we can steal souls, what is one set of fingerprints? Now, you have worked hard for several months. This is not a punishment, but a reward for good service. Take some time far from
Chicago and restore your mind. We have a home on the island of Oahu in Hawaii. It suits our needs and we chose it because the nickname of Oahu is The Gathering Place. We will be in contact with your next assignment.”
Hawaii was as beautiful as I had imagined. I would peddle the bicycle I found in the house, down to the beach early in the morning, and allow my body to soak up the tropical sun until it was time for lunch. Later I would sit on the porch and either read or take an afternoon nap. There were times my mind would wander back to Johnny, Barbara or even Alexis wondering what was going on in their lives. My connection to the world was a Philco clock radio that sat on a small wooden table just inside the front door of the house. It received a signal from two stations. News of Chicago murder investigations were not the lead stories.
One afternoon, I decided to visit the newly built International Market Place along Kalakaua Avenue in Honolulu. While chatting with one of the merchants, a beautiful woman approached me about a camera issue she as experiencing.
“Sorry to disturb your conversation, but my camera shutter appears to be stuck and that man over there told me you would able to fix it for me. Is that true?”
I scanned the area, but could not recognize a familiar face. “What man was that?”
“I'm not sure who he was," the petite beauty said. "I was taking a photo, and my shutter froze up. A man walked up behind me and insisted that even though he could not help me, he was sure you could. He pointed right to you as if you two were friends.”
I looked around again. “Where is the man now? What did he look like?”
The bronzed beauty stomped her sandal. “Who cares who the man was, or what he looked like? Can you help me or not? I'm in a real hurry to get the picture I need for a project I'm working on today.”
“Yes, I think I can, but I am curious who the man was or why he thought I could help you? No one on this island knows that I have tools to fix cameras. No one.”
“He was standing over there on the street corner, but he’s not there now. Please can you help me? I don’t have time to debate if you knew the man or not. I'm in a real hurry.”
I took one look, barely touched the camera and the shutter released itself almost as if it fixed itself, or was magic. I guess in her haste, she did not give a second thought to the fact that I barely touched her camera and it worked.
“Thank you so much, you have no idea how much of a hassle you saved me. Please let me pay you for your troubles.”
"No. It is fine really. I hope you can finish taking your photo now.”
The twenty-something looking woman hustled away. She returned three minutes later.
“Damn. I missed my chance," she said wiping her brow. "I need a moment to cool my temper. Let me buy you something to drink or maybe some lunch. I could use a break from work now that I missed my assignment today. Please, have some lunch with me. Maybe this day can turn around, because so far, it’s been a lousy frigging day.”
I studied the beautiful creature standing in my shadow. The first thing I noticed was her jade colored eyes, which had a Polynesian shape to them. Then I spied her long black hair that flowed from her head down to the tip of her waistline. I would have been an utter fool not to want to dine with such a woman.
“Thank you. Sure, I would enjoy getting out of the sun myself and spending some time with you. I’m Cale. It is a pleasure meeting you.”
“Hello Cale, nice to meet you too. My name is Kalani.”
“What a beautiful name, so fitting for such a beautiful lady.”
“Thank you. In Hawaiian, the name means, The Heavens. My father gave me the name because he was sure I was a gift from above.”
I didn't know why, but there was an instant feeling that I had not met anyone like Kalani in my past. We walked slowly along the crowded avenue, until we found a quiet street café that seemed perfect.
“Tell me about yourself, Kalani. Do you live here, or are you on vacation?”
She giggled at my question. I felt the breeze in my hair, the smell of the salt air from the ocean across the street. I could hear the idle chatter from the table next to us, the touch of the cold glass on my fingertips. My imagination could taste her lip-gloss against my lips. All my senses were alive sitting across from her.
“Vacation? Me? No. I was born in the hospital down the street. I've lived on most of the Islands of Hawaii. I understand these islands like few others. I'm a freelance photographer, who takes photos, mostly scenic images, to promote tourism for our Island nation. I work with a local agency, who sells my work to magazines and occasionally to the government for promotional uses. I've traveled to the Philippines, Malaysia and Australia for my work. I would love to visit China, but I've yet to get any assignments there yet. One day, I'll get there, or even Japan. I would love to explore all of the Orient before I leave this earth.”
She smiled and asked, “What about you Cale? You don’t look like the typical man from Hawaii. I think that silly shirt you're wearing screams tourist. Are you from the mainland and here on vacation?”
I laughed and became even more alive sitting across from her. “I tend to move around quite a bit. I was born in Europe, but I have been living in the States recently. My work keeps me moving from one place to the next.”
“Oh, what type of work do you do?”
“Hard to explain really, but I would consider myself an entrepreneur. I have owned a few businesses and tend to move where I think my talents best used. Photography is a hobby of mine. I am still curious why that man told you I knew about cameras, but I am so happy he did. What did the guy look like?”
“Gee, Cale. I’m really not sure, it happened so fast. But, I don’t think he was from here either. He had pale skin. I think he had either gray. Maybe white hair, but I really didn’t get a good look. I was so upset that my camera froze the instant I needed it. As soon as he said you could help, I walked right over to you.”
“You could have gone back and taken the photo. I would have gladly waited for you to make sure it really was working.”
“If you know about photography, Cale, then you realize it’s all about a moment in time. My time to take the photo had passed. I was taking one of an important man, but he moved away as my shutter froze. He disappeared into the crowd. My moment in time had passed.”
I smirked. “I hate when that happens. Maybe you will notice another who looks like your past subject and you can get the image another time.”
Kalani sighed. “I doubt it. I was working on a special project and I needed that one particular person alone in the photo. I missed my chance.”
We spent the better part of the next three hours sitting and watching the crowd stroll by as we learned about each other. We laughed and told photography stories. We learned we both get upset when others think you set up the camera, take the shot and that is all you have to know about photography. We found we had a lot in common. Our personalities seem to mesh. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable with a woman, who in many ways was very similar to me.
After spending an afternoon with a beautiful woman, I realized how, despite my years of life experiences and education, that Barbara had manipulated me. She had no real connection with me on an emotional level, it was all about her desire to get close and destroy me for not having children. With Kalani, it came so natural, so enjoyable. I knew I could not allow her to leave me. Before I could act to cement our relationship, she did.
She offered to take me to parts of the island of Oahu that I had not seen to take scenic photos. My mouth could not move quickly enough to accept her proposal. I think she noticed my excitement when she teased me, “Down boy, or I might leave you lost up there.”
I didn’t care to hide my emotion. The woman made me smile inside and out.
We had spent the better part of four days together, when she informed me of an event she had to attend in the evening. She was hired by the local newspaper to get photos of a social gathering being held to encourage people to vote in th
e upcoming election. It would decide if Hawaii would become a state, or remain a territory of the United States.
Several politicians from the mainland were expected to attend, as well as officials from the islands. It was a formal affair. I wanted to tag along, but I realized Kalani had work to do.
That same evening, I felt a rush of power come over my body. Since it was while I was thinking about our date for the next morning, I wasn't sure if it was a rush of happiness or someone had taken a soul. It didn’t matter. I was usually a detailed and cautious person, yet I couldn't stop feeling the joy that rushed through my body like I had never experienced.
The following morning, we met for our date that she described as a bike ride. Kalani showed me a route she took many mornings that winds along the coastline where you get to see some of the most beautiful sunrises. We pulled over for a moment to take a seat and listen to the waves roll on to the beach. While watching a few surfers attempt to catch the morning waves, soul stealing, Elder Orcus, Chicago, my parents, none of that was on my mind in that glorious moment. I sat with the most beautiful woman in the world, enjoying something that most will never get to experience. I felt so grateful. So satisfied.
We jumped back on our bikes and entered the winding road, when a car came out of nowhere. It shoved Kalani and her bike off the road. The corner of the car grazed me enough to eject me into midair and back on the beach fifteen feet from Kalani.
After a few moments, I regained my composure and noticed the man getting out of his car and moving towards Kalani. I thought he was checking to see if she was ok. As I was trying to stand and regain my balance, I saw a baseball bat in the man's hands.
He lifted the bat and whacked Kalani across both legs. I had never witnessed or been in an attack before, but instinctively I grabbed my camera and took his photo. He fell to the ground.
Before he could take another swing at Kalani, I felt myself almost fly through the air, lunging myself at him. I grabbed the bat, and took my personal swipes at his very wide body. Sports were never my strong suit. My first swipe missed. I continued to swing furiously, until he backed away. I cursed at him to stay away. He cursed at Kalani.
“You stay away from Mr. Kapena, or death to you, and your family, bitch,” he yelled.
The attacker stumbled back to the car with his hand on his chest and drove off. I felt power rush through me, as if I had taken the man’s soul. Between the feeling knowing I had taken a soul forbidden to remove, and the adrenaline running through me from the attack, I sat in the sand for several minutes attempting to control my senses. Kalani sat crying a few feet away. I knew I had to take control of the situation, despite being barely able to move.
“Are you injured badly, Kalani? We need to get you to the hospital.”
“No, Cale. Give me a few minutes to regain my composure. I'll be fine after my body calms down.”
“We need to report this to the police. What did that man want with you? Why was he trying to harm you?”
“No police. I can handle this on my own.”
I inched towards her. “Kalani, the man tried to kill you. He wants to bring death to your family. Why would you not want the police to know what happened?”
“Cale, please give me a few moments and I will tell you what you want to know, but my body is shaking, I need time.”
I dragged my body through the sand and wrapped my arms around her. I wasn't sure if it was only my body, or hers as well, but that feeling of stealing a soul was still running through me. I was hoping she could not feel me still sweating and pulsating. I'm not sure how long we sat, but it was over an hour. Neither of us said a word until I could stand.
“Let’s see if you can stand, Kalani. If not I am going to get you to a doctor.”
She stood up slowly, but wasn't in control of her body. Her bike to twisted to ride, we walked to the closest phone and called a taxi to get her home. She insisted she would be fine and I was not to call a doctor.
“My father is a doctor. I will have him come over later and check me out. I don’t think anything is broken, but no question that I'll have bruises for a while. Can I tell my father my new boyfriend thought it was his birthday and I was his personal piñata?”
“That depends on if you consider me your boyfriend or not? So if I am, who was that man? Maybe I can help you. You would be surprised at what I can do.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I'm being beaten and you take his picture. What the heck was that all about? You’re girlfriend is being struck with a large piece of wood by a brute, and you stop and take pictures?”
“It got him to stop didn’t it?”
“How did you do that? Did the flash go off in his face or something, Mr. Wizard?”
“One day I will tell you the trick, but for now, you tell me about that man. What did he want with you?”
“Cale, there are rare times I get put in some bad situations in doing my work. I'm working a story about a really bad guy who has moved onto our island home. He's smuggling women from the Orient promising wealth and fame. When they arrive, they're sold into slavery and prostitution. He's a violent and dangerous man who needs to be stopped.”
“Another reason to call the police about today, before you or your family is injured seriously or killed. Let me call the police, please.”
“The police know all about him. The problem is that they can’t identify him with certainty, or catch him near any of the girls and tie him to the crimes. He's careful never to be in the same place with them. Some don't believe he is a real person, but maybe a small group of people running the smuggling organization. I know he's one person and I can identify him. I've been tracking him for over two years now. I sit on the side of the hill and watch everything that moves coming and going from where I believe he lives on Oahu. The police caught his men one time on the docks smuggling in girls in the hull of a freighter. I think it was a set up to let the police think they had discovered clues to track them. I believe there were many more than four girls being smuggled that same day. I was sitting high up on the hill watching. I saw enough girls to fill the back of a small pineapple truck, led off a smaller fishing boat on the other side of the docks, while all the police were searching the larger ship."
We waited for the cab as she went on with her story.
"My neighbor works for Honolulu police as a detective. He knows I'm working an editorial project for the paper. He was attempting to help and told me about the raid. He also insisted I not be anywhere near the docks, so not to expose him as my informant. When that truck left with the women, I followed it from above to a location near the docks, where the women were led into a building.
The day we met, I know it was Kapena at the market. I was trying to get his photo for my assignment. I don't want to go to the police, other than my neighbor and alert them that I'm following Kapena. He's an evil man and I have my assignment to fulfill. This project is very important to me, Cale. You can't under any circumstances get in my way or go to the police and let them know I'm following Kapena. I'm trained to handle myself. Earlier, I was caught off guard because I was with you, and not paying attention. I won’t let that happen again. I'm a strong woman, capable of handling this on my own.”
“If you say so, but I am a pretty capable person too, Kalani."
“Don’t’ underestimate me, Cale. There are things you can't understand that are in play. If I told you about them, you think I was a crazy woman and run from me. For now, sit here until the taxi can come. While we are waiting, you can explain to me why it was important that you needed to stop and take a picture of someone attacking me? You couldn’t run to my rescue before taking a photo?”
“You have your secrets. I have mine.”
CHAPTER Eleven