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My Kind of Town

by Don Chapman


The Honolulu Soap Co.:
Sunday digest

>> Arizona Memorial

The moment that Muhammed, Sandy, Rosalita and Elizabeth locked up the silver-blue van and started across the parking lot, Navy intelligence officer Lt. Martin Luther Washington gave the go-ahead to Commander Chuck Ryan.

"They're on the way in."

"I'm about 45 seconds away."

Dressed as a tourist, complete with camera, Martin followed the group across the parking lot, staying close because he wanted to be sure of getting on the same boat to the memorial they were on. Sure, he could flash a badge, but better to low-key it all the way.

But suddenly Muhammed was stopping . Martin paused for a heartbeat. But he had to keep walking. Reading body language, he guessed Muhammed left something in the van. Martin held his breath as he passed so close he could have reached out and punched Muhammed. Maybe later he'd get the chance.

>> Honolulu Soap Co.

My brother's gay lover.

It was a phrase that took getting used to for Lily Ah Sun.

And here he was on the phone, asking her to visit the last place she wanted to be.

"Oh, boy, Greg, I'm running late. Sorry I didn't call back."

In fact, she'd been avoiding it because Greg wanted to visit Lance at Queen's, where her cousin Quinn was also hospitalized. Problem was, only family was being allowed in and Greg was frantic to see Lance.

Lily wanted to stay at least 15 minutes' of weakness away from Quinn, but supposed Greg deserved at least that much. Someone had to introduce Greg to her mother. Lily was the only one in the family to whom Lance had dared introduce Greg.

Lily glanced at her watch. Better to visit now, while her father was still at work. He'd choke on My Son's Gay Lover. She'd simply steel herself against the temptation to see Quinn. She was a successful businesswoman, strong and confident and intelligent. She could make herself stay away from Quinn. She thought.

>> Arizona Memorial

The moment Muhammed Resurreccion turned to go back to the van, Marty pulled his ear plug from his pocket.

"Hold on, Chuck," he said. "He's is returning to the van."

"Too late. I'm already here."

In fact, he was idling in the crowded lot, waiting for a family to climb into an SUV - three kids arguing over who was going to sit where - and vacate the parking space.

"Geez, I see him coming."

Leaving Wilhemina, Rosalita and Elizabeth to wait, Muhammed walked back across the parking lot, opened the van's passenger door, scooped up the bouquet of flowers he'd purposely left behind.

Muhammed reached under the driver's seat, retrieved the small block of plastique explosive taped there by Wilhemina's cousin Rey Orlando yesterday. Muhammed quickly pressed it into the bottom of the flowers, molding it around the base of the stems as florists sometimes do to preserve flowers. He pressed a radio-receiver/blasting cap microchip into the plastique and patted his trouser pocket, felt what would appear to be a normal radio-control car-lock device. But this one had a range of two miles.

>> Honolulu Soap Co.

Lily loved check lists. She'd discovered them at Punahou, junior year. Changed her life. Write down everything you need to do, then check each one off when it's completed. Lily's current to-do list had just one more item, returning the call from Quinn. He'd sounded confused, maybe from the painkillers. Apparently he thought that she'd dropped off just one photocopy of old news stories in his room at Queen's.

In fact, there was a stack of them. That one was about the disappearance of Clarence "Bobo" Ah Sun. And apparently Quinn thought that had something to do with why Lily no longer wanted to see him. Instead, it had everything to do with him kissing hoochie mama when Lily walked into the room.

Lily's Mont Blanc hovered over the list.

"To hell with you, Quinn Ah Sun." And instead of making a check mark beside his name, she scratched it out entirely.

It was time to go meet Greg at Queen's. It wouldn't be so hard to avoid Quinn's room. All she had to do was remember what she saw happening there.

>> Arizona Memorial

Muhammed was feeling pretty good until he closed the van door and saw a familiar car - a champagne Intrepid - waiting for a parking space. The same car that had followed them from town and had continued past the Arizona Memorial. Only to double back, apparently. A tourist who missed his turn? Or a U.S. agent?

Muhammed's heart began to race. He had to get these flowers into Elizabeth's hands as soon as possible. He locked the van, glanced again at the golden car, but could not see the driver behind his tinted windows. Walking across the lot, he scanned for other agents, but none stood out. Muhammed walked with the flower-bomb in his left hand, his right caressing the remote key in his pocket.

>> Kalihi at Nimitz

Lily braked her car for the red light, waved to the street hawker selling a Star-Bulletin. She paid him, glanced at the front page. A headline caught her eye: Bloody/Death/At Portlock.

"Oh my God."

It was the guy who had broken into her house and was trying to rape her maid Rosalita until Quinn came to the rescue, took a bullet to the thigh and shot the creep. Mickey Musselwhite was his name. He had 63 priors and died a few feet from Lily's property.

The driver behind her honked. The light had turned green. She started driving. Oh God, Quinn had killed a man. She couldn't imagine the guilt he was feeling, but knew that he must need her now more than ever. For the moment, she would put aside her anger. She owed him that much at least.

>> Queen's Medical Center

As much as he enjoyed holding hands with off-duty nurse Nina Ramones, Quinn Ah Sun was going berserk cooped up in this room.

"Any chance you can get me out of here for a few minutes?"

"I think you're ready for a wheelchair."

"Let's cruise!"

>> Arizona Memorial

He'd been here before when he was stationed at Pearl, but Marty was playing the curious tourist to the hilt. Which wasn't hard to do. Heck, that's why he was in Hawaii, for a well-deserved vacation - hitting the links in the morning, the beach in the afternoon and Duke's for sunset beverages. At least that was the plan until "Sandy" approached him at the Hale Koa and blurted a tale of terror. So here he was tailing a possible terrorist. Some vacation.

Marty admired the Arizona's mammoth anchor, more than twice tall as he was, and appeared to read the plaque. In fact he was keeping an eye on his gal Sandy, Rosalita and little Elizabeth. The Filipinas could have been sisters as they chattered in Tagalog. The girl held the hands of the two women, skipping between them, jumping into the air, swinging and laughing as they lifted her.

Martin angled his body away from them so they couldn't see his ear piece. In which he heard Chuck Ryan say: "Flowers, Marty. That's why Muhammed came back to the van, to get a bouquet of flowers."

"Right, I saw them stop in Aina Haina to buy a bouquet."

"Looks like it's time to call in the posse."

"It's only flowers, chief. Lotsa folks bring flowers here."

"But something else happened in the van, Marty. He didn't just grab the flowers."

"Maybe he also forgot his Tic-Tacs."

Marty saw Muhammed rejoin the women, hand the flowers to the kid. "Gotta go, chief."

"I'm on my way." But in fact, because Muhammed had spotted his car, Ryan felt constrained to stay in it longer than he wanted. Muhammed had no doubt seen Ryan stopped beside Muhammed's van for the red light at Kalaloa. When he saw the same car in the parking lot, he was smart enough to suspect he was being tailed. Thank God, Ryan thought, for tinted windows. Muhammed didn't know who was inside the intrepid. And Ryan didn't want to be seen exiting the car.

Precious seconds ticked away as Muhammed got closer to his potential target.




Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com



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