My Kind of Town
>> Honolulu Soap Co. The old soap and dance
Enroute from interviewing TheBus driver Myrtle Agena, HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes called Kona Weathers, asked the Chaminade criminal justice junior to watch for a woman "who's not all there, carrying an expedition-size desert camouflage backpack.
She's known to use TheBus stop at 4th Avenue on a regular basis. Keep an eye out there when you can." Knowing Kona, the kid would be doing his homework at the stop until he spotted her.
Now Gomes was waiting to see Sheets Ah Sun, who Kona reported drove past the illegal chemical dumpsite in Waimanalo twice in two days and seemed more interested in the investigation than most. This was a long shot, but hey, throwing a hook in the ocean and hoping to find a fish is a long shot too, and there didn't seem to be a lack of seafood at Safeway, did there?
Gomes picked up a magazine, "Soap Industry News." The cover story was about a company in El Paso that was making big profits on a new soap made from saturated tequila worms.
Gomes was aware of a light electrical hum, the sound of a production plant at work. And what a weird place to be looking for dirt, Gomes thought, in a soap factory. The air smelled so clean, so fresh. But isn't that what soap does, wash away the dirt and grease? And the scent of anything odious? This was, as the advertising line said, the home of "the purest soap on Earth."
Gomes learned long ago not to go on looks. He'd arrested a gentleman in sport coat and civic pin for molesting a child, a sweet-faced medical student for trying to knife her ex-boyfriend's new girl, a preacher for hitting his wife. None looked like "criminals." Neither did Sheets Ah Sun when he walked into the waiting area, stuck out a hand, introduced himself, said "I'll bet you know my brother Mits."
"The sergeant from the Pearl City station? As a matter of fact, I ran into him at Queen's the other day. Sorry to hear about his son."
"They say he'll be OK."
At least that's what Lily told him. Sheets did not like the idea of the cousins talking again, but he had a bigger problem at the moment.
"So what can I do for you, detective? You want a tour?"
That had not been part of Gomes' plans. But why not get to know this guy on his on his turf, then ask his questions. Besides, Gomes had loved those field trips to get behind-the-scenes tours of the bakery, dairy and newspaper when he was in elementary school. Some things don't change. "That would be great, if you've got the time."
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com