Kaua'i Me A River Part 21

"So, anyway, when he graduated from the University of Oregon he came back to Kaua'i. By that time Taylor Camp had been burned down and everybody had moved. He found your mom living in an ohana on some other woman's property."

"My Auntie Mana?"

"He didn't say. Anyway, when your dad came back..." she stopped and chewed on her lower lip. In the silence that followed I picked up the fragrance of a nearby plumeria tree.

"Don't stop now," I said. "What happened when he came back?"

"Are you sure you want to hear this? I mean, when Phil told me I thought maybe the drugs were messing with his head or something."

"Go on."

She blew out a breath. "Okay, so your dad comes back and finds your mom. But by then she had another kid. He couldn't believe it."

"My brother, Jeff."

"Yeah. Trouble was, it was also his brother's."

"Okay, you lost me there."

"Your mother had hooked up with Robert, your father's brother, while Phil was away at school."

"So, Uncle Robby really was my uncle?"

"I guess so. Robert had come to Kaua'i to visit Phil after he got out of the Army. When Phil went back to Oregon, Robert told him he was moving to Honolulu to look for a job, but he didn't. He stayed. Then Phil showed back up."

I was trying to put the pieces together but some didn't fit.

"Okay, so my mom started living with Phil's brother after my dad left for college?"

"Yeah, but Phil thought she didn't know."

"Didn't know what? Didn't know that Robert was Phil's brother?"

"No, of course she knew that. Phil thought she didn't know he was planning to come back. Phil said he sent his letters General Delivery to the Ha.n.a.lei Post Office. And he said Robert must've intercepted his letters to your mom."

I squinted. "That's just weird. Why would he do that?"

"Who knows? The guy had been wounded in Vietnam. He had a drug problem. Phil invited him to come over to Kaua'i to relax and get his head on straight. It never dawned on him his own brother would put the moves on his girlfriend."

"Why did Phil think Robert had taken the mail?"

"Because after Robert died, Phil found the letters. He said Robert had hidden them."

"So, Phil and Robert got in a fight?"

"Yeah. Phil said a few nights after he came back to Kaua'i his brother sneaked in his room while he was sleeping. Robert was drunk or high or something and he made so much noise cras.h.i.+ng into the room that it woke Phil up. Robert was carrying a baseball bat." Sunny took a sip of tea. "What happened that night haunted your dad *til his dying day."

I shot her a skeptical look.

"Anyway, Robert took a swing at Phil but he was so messed up he missed. Right about then your mom showed up and tried to break it up. I guess when Robert raised the bat again, your mom was in the way."

I put my hands up to cover my mouth. They were ice cold.

"Uncle Robby killed my mom?"

"I'm afraid so."

"And then..." I knew what was coming.

"And then he killed himself," she said. "Phil tried to stop him, but it was too late."

CHAPTER 29.

I was in the ohana when my phone rang. The caller ID said, Unavailable, but cops don't want you to know they're calling so I wasn't surprised when it turned out to be Detective Wong.

"Am I catching you at a bad time?" she said.

"No, it's fine." I said. Actually, I couldn't recall a worse time, but there was no turning back. I was eager to hear if Wong had found anything to verify Sunny's bizarre story.

"I did a records search and found the incident report. My boss says he's willing to let you take a look at it."

"Can I get a copy?"

"No, the file stays here. But if you'll come in, you can go through it."

I left the compound without telling Sunny. It was weird enough having a step-mother five years younger than me; no way would I play the role of step-child.

I drove to the Lihue police station. The same hunky desk jockey was at the front. I wondered if the guy was a street cop who'd messed up and was doing penance.

"You're here for Detective Wong, right?" he said.

I thought the Wong/right thing was funny but had a hunch he wouldn't see the humor.

"Yeah."

Kiki Wong took me to the interview room and set a thin manila file folder in front of me.

"This is it?" I said. I'd expected a big white box like you see on TV. I mean, after all, it involved a killing-accidental or not.

"There wasn't much to report. The investigating officer ruled it an accidental death. And then the alleged a.s.sailant committed suicide. Seems he jumped from Kalalau." She shrugged, then seemed to realize how disrespectful that looked and said, "Look, I'm sorry. I know this is regarding your mother. Take your time, but please leave everything in the same order you found it."

She left and I flipped the file folder open. The first few pages included the final incident report, typewritten and stapled together. In narrative form, it described the arrival of the police, the subsequent arrival of an ambulance, and the later search for the alleged attacker. It ended by saying an eyewitness had observed a man fall from a cliff off above the Kalalau trailhead, and when the body was recovered it was later identified as the alleged a.s.sailant.

The second set of stapled papers included the witness reports. There were notes from interviews with Auntie Mana-who was referred to by her real name, Maliana Kahele-as well as two other people whose names I didn't recognize. The witnesses seemed to corroborate Sunny's story. They'd heard a fight between two men, and called the police. When the police arrived, they found my mother gravely injured in the ohana. The men were gone, but no one witnessed them leaving.

After that came the autopsy report. I wasn't ready to delve into that in great detail. There was an outline drawing of the body with marks I a.s.sumed indicated wounds. The pathologist had used a larger line drawing of a human head to pinpoint the location of the fatal hemorrhage.

I leafed through the rest of the file but didn't see anything of interest. I did notice there were establis.h.i.+ng shots of the ohana and the yard outside, but no photos of my mother's body or even the murder scene itself and I thought that was odd.

I shut the file and took it to the front desk. The guy asked me to wait while he called Detective Wong. When I handed her the file, she nodded but didn't say anything.

"Don't you want to check to make sure it's all there?" I said.

"I will. But I trust you." Seemed to me one thing cancelled out the other, but again, I kept it to myself. Who knows how much trouble she'd had getting her boss to agree to let me see it?

"I have a question," I said.

"Certainly." She looked down at the desk clerk. "Would you like to talk in private?"

"No, that's not necessary. I just want to know why there's no mention of the two men's names."

"I'm not following."

"In all the reports and interviews no one says who the guys involved in the fight might be. Doesn't that seem odd?"

"Sorry, I don't have an answer for you. I'll be honest. You probably noticed we cleaned up the file a little. For instance, there are no crime scene shots or photos of the victim. No sense in you seeing those. But beyond that, as far as I know, this is the entire incident report."

"Sunny Wilkerson told me that before my father died, he admitted he'd been there. He claimed he'd been the intended target."

"Well, according to this, he was gone by the time the police arrived."

"But n.o.body asked? I mean, even if he wasn't there, wouldn't the responding officer ask if someone was staying in the ohana? Don't you think people would at least speculate who it was? I mean, really. We're talking Ha.n.a.lei, not New York."

"Witnesses are often unreliable. And, from what I was told, back in the eighties there were clashes between certain North Sh.o.r.e residents and the police. My best guess is no one was willing to name names."

I thanked her and went out to my car. I sat there trying to decide where to go next. Once again I felt the same weird sensation of someone watching me. I twisted around and checked the back seat. Empty. Then I got out and went back inside the police station.

I told the desk clerk I had one more question for Detective Wong. He shot me a little stink eye before calling her back out front.

"I'm sorry to bother you again," I said to Wong. "But after all that, I didn't make a note of the name of the officer who prepared the report. I guess I was so busy reading the account I overlooked it."

She asked the desk clerk to unlock the wooden gate separating the lobby from the working area of the station. He buzzed her through and she touched my elbow, signaling I should walk with her.

After we got outside and the gla.s.s door had closed behind us she said, "It was Chief Chesterton."

"Arthur Chesterton?"

"Yes."

"I wonder how much Peggy knew about this," I said.

"Well, you certainly can't ask her now," said Wong. "But maybe Mayor Chesterton remembers more than is in the report."

"I thought he had Alzheimer's or something."

"I don't think so. I spoke with him briefly at Peggy's memorial and he seemed okay. He was devastated, of course, but he managed to hold his own. Hundreds of people came to pay their respects." She held my gaze. I wasn't sure if the stare-down was to shame me for not showing up at my father's ex-wife's memorial or because she still thought I had something to do with Peggy's death.

"Do you know where I might find him?"

"I can't promise he knows anything, or even if he'd be willing to talk to you if he does, but last I heard he was down at Garden Island Manor. It's an a.s.sisted living place."

"Mahalo."

I drove to Garden Island Manor. From the outside, it looked like a cheery apartment building with a new paint job, carefully manicured landscaping, and a little flock of colorful Kaua'i chickens pecking contentedly in the flower beds. But once I stepped inside it felt more like a fortress than a residence.

There was a woman behind a desk guarding the entrance. Her name badge said, *Joy.' She had frizzy red hair and her face looked like a gargoyle, one of those scary mythical creatures with buggy eyes and a pointy chin. In medieval days, builders positioned carved gargoyles on the eaves of buildings to scare away intruders. This real-life version seemed to be performing the same task.

"Sorry," she said when I asked if she'd call Arthur Chesterton's room. "I don't believe we have a resident by that name."

"Would you at least check your residents' list? I'm pretty sure he's here. A detective at the police station told me I'd find him here."

"We do not give out personal information regarding our residents," she said.

"I'm not asking for his mother's maiden name," I said. "I just want to see if he'll talk with me."

"We only allow visitors on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays."

"Then I guess it's my lucky day, because today is Tuesday."

She glanced at the page-a-day calendar on her desk and scowled as she turned the page to the correct date.

"But are you expected? Our residents deserve and require a certain level of security. We can't just let in anybody."

"I'm only asking you to call him. We can meet here in the lobby if he's concerned about his safety."

She deepened her scowl. "I will allow you to leave a written message for the mayor. If he wants to see you, he'll let me know." I found it amusing that everyone still referred to Arthur Chesterton as "the mayor" even though he hadn't been in office for a dozen years or more.

"So, I guess he does live here," I said.

She shot me a don't push your luck look as she handed over a notepad and pencil.

I wrote a note asking Arthur Chesterton to call if he'd be willing to see me. I signed it, and under my name I wrote *Philip Wilkerson's daughter.'

I'd made it halfway back to Sunny's when my phone rang. The caller ID read, A Chesterton.

I pulled over to take the call. After I answered, a reedy male voice said, "Phil told me you were smart. Seems he was right."

CHAPTER 30.