My Kind of Town
Descending to Serials
>> State Capitol
In politics, Machiavelli Yang knew, image really is everything. And Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka, the man other people called his boss -- although Machiavelli knew whom was really running the show -- needed some image work. To Machiavelli it had been a problem even before a former stripper made news by crashing the senator's car off the Keeaumoku Overpass. It started with the senator's name. If he was going to be elected governor in November, Donovan needed one more hyphen. And the only way to get one now was from a wife, which he also needed. The senator had a broad constituency --Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, Haole, Hawaiian -- but something was missing. What -- who -- could it be?
>> State Library
Lily Ah Sun descended a flight of concrete stairs to the Serials room in the basement. The rising scent of old newsprint filled her nose, and Lily's heart raced knowing she might be just steps from finding clues to what made her father and her Uncle Mits quit speaking 21 years ago. Opening the door, she remembered the room quite well. On visits to the library with her mother when Lily was a young girl, her mother always stopped in here to read the newspapers from New York and Paris, to see what they wrote about fashion.
Lily inquired at the information desk about researching back issues of both Honolulu dailies and was directed to a long table, on top of which was a shelf that held golden-brown bound volumes. Each volume represented a year, and contained an index of names that appeared in both papers in that calendar year. Lily was looking for something that may have happened in 1981, took down that book and pulled up a chair.
>> Makiki Heights
His first try was just bad luck, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka told himself. The plan was perfect and he'd been undetected. Unfortunately the first poison dart just missed HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes when he dove back into the water. The second was dead-on, but then that stupid WWII-vintage Japanese mini-sub surfaced right in front of Gomes and the dart pinged off it harmlessly.
Darts were still a good plan. This time he'd take more than two because he wouldn't be shooting from a snorkel. He'd use his long-distance blowgun. The senator poured a common household poison in an old Yum Yum Tree pie tin, placed the tips of a half-dozen darts in the acrid solution to soak. But really, all it would take was one. The new plan brewing in the senator's crystal meth-fueled head would bring him success with just one shot.
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