“ At least now we've got something real to rattle the snake with, heh. Chief?” asked Haley, whose infectious smile and bright Aussie eyes had lightened the intense work.
Everyone in the room knew the value of actually having hard information before walking into an interrogation room, and knew that at the moment Tony was only working a bluff with Paniolo. “Get a copy down to Tony right away, Don,” Parry instructed the artist. “And spread 'em around. Call Dave Scanlon and share it with him. Tell him he can take it to the nightly news guys tonight if he wants.”
The decision to allow Scanlon to give it to the press represented a gamble. Parry was damned if he did, damned if he didn't. They could sit on the suspect's description or put it out as an APB. If they withheld the information from the public, it could end up costing another life; by the same token, if they published it along with the sketch, the killer was also likely to know, and his first reaction most likely would be fleeing and going into extended hiding, possibly escaping the island. Because Parry wanted him off the streets of Oahu at any cost, he chose to put out an APB and to involve the TV and radio stations as well as the press. At the same time, he had all the airlines, passenger ships and Port Authority points notified.
Myers picked up his art materials and promised to get copies around as ordered, took a bow to a standing ovation and quickly left.
“ Now, let's get back out on the street, and this time, Haley, I'm going to be there with you when Junior here shows up. As for you, Terri, just play the creep the exact same as always. Bat it right back at him. He says he's a cowboy, stomp on his horse.”
She smiled at this. “Got it, but what if he wants me to go bye-bye with him? Not so sure I want to be alone with the Devil, if you know what I mean.”
“ We'll escort you to the door, and as soon as he's home and closing the door on you, we'll kick it in and search the place on probable cause.”
“ The tape and the sketch?” she asked, wondering if that was enough to make probable cause.
“ That and the connection with Ewelo, yeah. But we need to know where his den is, and unless Ewelo comes clean with it, well, it's up to us.”
“ Been a hell of a night for discovery,” commented Jessica.
“ Quantum leap!” Parry replied, smiling for the first time all day. Jessica agreed with Jim's moves. Something had to end. Either the killings or the killer's life had to stop. Something had to shake loose. Something had to give.
No more women could be abducted, mutilated and cast into the sea by the Cane Cutter.
The description alone would cause a great ripple effect across the islands: Hawaiian male of mixed ancestry, light-skinned, thickly built, five-nine, 165 pounds, age twenty-seven to thirty, dark blue eyes, driving a Buick sedan, possibly black to maroon in color.
It wasn't much, but it was, along with the sketch, far more than they'd had before now.
13
The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.
Midnight, July 17. near Fort DeRussy, Honolulu
Beneath multicolored signs and lights, Lopaka prowls the streets of Oahu's Waikiki area, blending in easily with the ebb and flow of tourists. At one with his surroundings, wearing a billowy Hawaiian shirt, he lets his tattooed arms hang free and unencumbered. The only thing that marks him as different from everyone else on the street is that he isn't in a group, that he strolls alone, yet he might easily be regarded as a bellhop for one of the dozens of hotels along the strip, or even a clerk from one of the countless shops here.
He's pacing outside the ABC Liquor and Pharmacy, waiting for Hiilani's shift to end. She is his newest Kelia who has yet to feel his brand of final absolution. She half expects him, after all. She wants it, even though she doesn't completely understand why. He hopes not to disappoint her.
He has seen some other possibilities tonight, but with the store clerk he has a history, and that will make for small talk and a rapport he has yet to build with the other girls he has marked. With Hiilani, who is easily flattered and easily amused, he can be more natural. He'll offer her some of his weed. She can take it or leave it, he'll tell her, but either way, he finds her beautiful and he wants to be alone with her. In his car a hypodermic filled with a narcotic is awaiting her arrival.
She 'II come away with me, climb into my car without argument, and go with me. a lamb to my slaughterhouse. Once inside… the thought makes him swell and bulge. He swoons with a flush of heat and power that is too much for his neurons to take, exciting his blood, and tingling his private parts in a way that ordinary sex had never done.
He is intent on his prey now, and the circling perimeter of his stroll is coming in tighter and tighter loops as the time for Kelia's appearance approaches.
Timing, like the smoke, mirrors and sleight of hand of a magician-diversionary actions-all become the tools of the hunter. Everything is fair; everyone is fair game; nothing is kapu so long as the result feeds his god, for it then becomes a sanctifying, a ho'okapu, and no more taboo…
It had been so with Linda Kahala, his last Kelia. She was surprised to see him at first, perhaps even embarrassed a little, although he'd had her in his sights for several weeks by then. It was obvious she was turning tricks on the avenue. It was the only way she could possibly come up with the money she needed for tuition, and she wanted out of her house in the worst way, so she needed rent money as well. She had confided a great deal before they got to his place. When she'd first laid eyes on him, a failure and a dropout in her eyes, she hadn't wanted anything to do with him, but then he wore her down with his attentions, returning nightly to shower her with high praise, telling her that she did not need to prostitute herself, that if she came to live with him, he could take care of her and defray the costs of her tuition as well, that he was the answer to all her prayers. Remembering how she loved poetry, he reminded her of the book of Shakespearean sonnets that had belonged to his mother, which he'd given her.
He pressed her, begged, pleaded, not for her services, but for her… saying he was lonely and that he could free her of the streets, if only she would just be his. This offer gave her pause, but at first she still remained recalcitrant, saying she had no usual price, and that she was no whore. After five weeks of this, he threatened her with exposure to her parents, whom he'd met once when she'd brought him home with another friend. Then he begged her apology for being so low to even suggest such blackmail.
She hadn't actually wanted to go with him that night, but when he grabbed her and she felt the strength in his arms as he forced her into his car, his grip caused her to relent, to in fact freeze for a moment.
She let out a little cry and said, “All right… all right, you don't have to get rough. Damn it, Lopaka, look, you've brought up a bruise. If you're going to get rough, I'll never speak to you again.”