My Kind of Town

by Don Chapman

Friday, July 6, 2001

Thought of the day

>> Makiki Heights

"You sure you don't want a seat?" Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka said, taking another swallow from a longneck Bud.

"Quite sure," HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes said, towering over the senator, writing in his note pad. "And when was the last time you saw Serena Kawainui?"

The senator had to think. "Uh, it was ... last night, I guess."


"Right. We had dinner, had some drinks. And then we went to bed."

In fact, he'd passed out. Donovan also didn't mention that they fought because Serena had just found out she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby, and that was simply impossible. It would ruin everything. A very quiet abortion was the only solution. Serena was a fun girl, and he genuinely liked her, but ex-strippers are not exactly First Lady material.

"And you have not had any contact with her since then? No phone calls?"


"Is it possible she might have taken your car?" The canary yellow Town Car that everyone recognized as "the senator's."

"She doesn't know how to drive."

"I see." That would explain the accident.

"Detective Gomes, am I being investigated for anything?"

"No, senator, you're not."

"Good. I couldn't imagine why.

"I take it, Senator," Gomes said, surveying the living room that overlooked the city lights, spotting the telltale evidence on a corner table, "that you have not seen a newspaper or any TV news today."

Uh-oh, the Democrats' best hope in 2002 thought. It was his most salient thought of the day.

>> Foodland -- Hawaii Kai

"You're running up some major Maika'i points tonight just on Popsicles," Quinn Ah Sun said, placing a double-bag holding six-dozen Popsicles on the passenger-side floor of his big Dodge truck. He and his cousin Lily had stopped at Foodland in Aina Haina and bought six dozen Popsicles there. But then on an impulse he'd stopped at Maunalua Bay, and they'd talked and walked and ... they'd kissed. The kiss of a lifetime. And then Quinn, the sober one, broke it off. You idiot, he thought. Why was doing the right thing so hard?

"It's for a good cause. Hey, in fact, when you drop me off, I want you to come inside and meet Rosalita and Elizabeth."

"Sure. I never knew anyone who had a maid before."

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

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