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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Hair-raising incident
>> Kaneohe
Quinn Ah Sun had noted the growth of dark stubble atop the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa's head when he first arrived, but missed the significance. Now, as he followed the others out to a lanai overlooking the bay, it hit him. The lama's hair could not have grown that fast since he saw him yesterday, providing the official police motorcycle escort to the dedication of a shrine at the lama's parents' home in Liliha and back to his Waikiki hotel. That boy's head was clean-shaven.
This one -- who was hanging out with a relative of Genghis Khan and one of the hottest women he'd seen this side of his wife Lily, who identified herself as the lama's eternal consort -- who was he?
Bodhicita Guzman offered plantation iced Darjeeling as they were seated at a table shaded beneath a broad umbrella. "Cut to the chase," Quinn said. "You're not the same lama I saw yesterday."
The young man nodded slowly, the essence of peace. In his grace, in his compassionate bearing, this was the real lama, Quinn suddenly knew that.
"So, mind telling me why you're here and why I was protecting a stunt-double yesterday." Again, not a question.
"Glad you used that term," Kamasami Khan said, "protect. That's exactly what we're tying to do."
"Since when?"
"Two days ago," Khan said. "We made the switch in the dressing room at the Blaisdell."
"We?"
"The lama's brother and me. Joe's downstairs, by the way, doing his computer thing."
"There's more to 'we' than you two."
"Yes," Khan said. "Not many, but enough."
Quinn sensed there was something Khan was not willing to reveal about the group or their operation. "So why the switcheroo?"
"You saw the attempt on the stand-in's life yesterday by the Chinese."
"The one we arrested was Chinese. But how did you know that? Nothing's been released to the media yet."
"Officer Ah Sun, there are things I may choose to tell you. If I do, they are things that, at least for the time being, you must ignore with the police side of your brain. You must hear them only as a friend and protector of the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa. Is that possible?"
Quinn believed in the good the lama could accomplish, but still the quickness of his response surprised him. "Yes."
"Well then ..." Khan said, took a deep breath before starting his tale.
"Please do the short version, friend Khan," the lama said, "so I can get that ride on Officer Ah Sun's motorcycle."
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com