KO'd in Honolulu: Katrina Odgen Mysteries, #1

Dedication

For Mom

And

Kathy

Acknowledgements

Many thanks go out with my deepest gratitude, but all the errors are mine. I probably made them intentionally for literary purposes. Yes, that must be it.

Thanks Mom, my first editor and number one champion. Thank you to my brother, Dave Farris, who provided enough computer info so I could make up the rest. Thank you to Sisters in Crime as an organization, and to the Central Coast Chapter who critiqued and supported. Thank you to my personal editor, Margaret Searles. Thanks to the writers who encouraged me: Rich Barre, Earlene Fowler, Dale Furutani, Catherine Ryan Hyde, Babs Lakey, Kris Neri, Gary Phillips, and the Short Mystery Fiction Society.

Mahalo to the Honolulu Police Department who gave me tours and answered endless questions, especially--Joanne Furuya, the head of the crime lab, Brian Punzal in the jail, Mary Souza and Sgt. Daniels in Evidence, Susan Starrett, Chief Investigator with the Honolulu Medical Examiner's Office, and special thanks to Sgt. Kathleen Osmond.

Blessings to Leona Evans who said nothing is too good to be true.

Thank you to Sandy Cummins at Writers Exchange E-Publishing.

Chapter 1

Aole ona hemahema e pono ai

ke hoike aku kekahi ia ia i ko ke

kanaka: no ka mea, ua ike no ia

i ko loko o kanaka.  IOANE II Mokuna 25

And need not that any should

testify of man; for he knew what

was in man. JOHN II Verse 25

The sand still held some of the day's heat as the young couple lay under the giant hau tree.  The moon was almost full and lit the beach and crests of the lapping waves.  Around the curve of the shore, the hotels of Waikiki could be seen glittering like towers of Christmas tree lights above the busy strip of clubs and restaurants.  Although close by, very little sound from the traffic and nightspots could be heard on this side of Queen's Beach.  No one observed the lovers as they kissed on the blanket.

Are you cold? she asked him.

No, are you?

No.  Want to go swimming, then?

Are you nuts?  Things come out at night to feed around here.  He pretended to shiver and clasped her close again.

I know just the place where there's nothing to eat you.  She giggled, pulled him off the blanket and ran laughing toward a stuccoed structure with large, arched openings.

Wow, it's huge!  Like an Olympic-sized pool!  What is this? he asked.

It's the Natatorium.  It's a memorial they built after World War I.  It's the largest salt-water swimming pool in the world or something.  They used to have swimming meets and stuff here, way back then.  It was open to the public, too.  It hasn't been used for years, though.  They can't decide if they should tear it down or build it back up.  Help me up, she commanded. 

He boosted her onto the four-foot wall surrounding the cement deck.  On the parking lot side, concrete bleachers blocked out the stars.  The other three sides were open to the night.

If it hasn't been used in years, why is there water in it? he asked, jumping down to the deck.

It's open to the ocean somehow, and water comes and goes with the tide.  Only it must be blocked--it smells pretty gross.

It doesn't look too healthy in there, either.  Let's not swim.  Let's go back to the hau tree.  He smiled and reached for her hand, but she pointed to the middle of the pool.

What's that?

What? 

It looks like a dead fish or something.  A shiny white object floated a third of the way down the pool. Suddenly it shifted, and an entire human arm became visible in the bright moonlight.

Oh my god! the girl shrieked and ran to the wall, leaping the barrier that had required a boost from her muscular young man only moments before.  He followed, clearing the wall by a foot.  They ran to the Hau Tree Lanai restaurant and sailed over that seawall, too.  The restaurant was closed, but the adjacent hotel wasn't.  They bounded up the steps, startled a small group of Japanese tourists, and reached the front desk.

Gasping and crying, the girl said, Oh my god! and draped herself over the registration book.

The alarmed desk clerk turned his attention to the boy who said, There's a body!  A dead body!  An arm of a body!... in the pool! between huge, gasping breaths.

The clerk dialed housekeeping while asking, What, our pool?  Is it a guest?

No.  Not hotel pool.  Ocean pool.  Nata... Nata... he panted.

Natatorium! the girl finished.  The clerk hung up on housekeeping and dialed 911.

Chapter 2

I wish I could just shoot him, thought police officer Katrina Ogden, known at work as K.O.  Her blue-green eyes bored into the man, willing him to go away.

He whined, But I don't have a case number.

I'm sorry, sir, as I've said before, without a case number, I really can't help you. K.O. repeated for the third time.  The Records Division office at the Honolulu Police Department was stifling, even with the A/C because civilians opened and shut the door so many times coming to get case information.

Perhaps, sir, if you have the names of the plaintiff or defendant I could--

The what?

K.O. sighed.  The names of the people involved and the dates concerned, sir.  She smiled weakly at the long, hot, impatient line of people behind the whiner.  If this counter weren't so wide, I could just reach over and strangle him, she mused silently as her customer screwed up his face in concentration.

Uh, it was a coupla years ago, eh?  He grinned at her.  The last name was, uh, Portagee, I tink.  The man's pidgin accent became thicker and more difficult to understand as the temperature rose and fuses shortened.

Sir, do you mean the last name was Portagee, or that the name was of Portuguese extraction?  K.O.'s navy blue, wool blend uniform adhered to her.  Her red hair was pulled into a small bun, but her bangs glued themselves into spikes on her forehead.  Perhaps you should come back later, when you have more information, she said to him and the twelve people behind him.  A collective sigh went up.  And before I kill you where you stand, she finished to herself.

K.O. had had enough of dealing with the public for one morning.  I will be so glad when this move is over, and we are in the new offices, K.O. grumbled as she stepped around file boxes and stomped back to Records storage.  She had to retrieve documents manually, since half the computers had been moved to the new station on the edge of downtown, and half were still here in the old station on Young street.  None of them were working, of course.

The old station was in the very old Sears department store building, and had been outgrown years ago.  The building still had escalators, and in the offices it was easy to imagine sporting goods or lingerie.  The vintage green tile was chipped and broken, and the windows were blocked over or tinted for security, such as it was.  The parking lot accommodated about fifty cars, and the parking tickets issued to poor slobs who had to get to either the station or the Department of Motor Vehicles next door were the city's main source of revenue.  Even the officers didn't have enough parking places at shift change, and Young street was coned off to allow the beat cars and other vehicles to stack three deep.

K.O. was also supervising the move of the computers in Records and disposal of material that was no longer needed.  Normally, her department was well run and functioned smoothly.  The past few weeks had been chaotic and would continue to be, since the new station wasn't complete, but the old one had to be vacated.  She had made numerous trips between stations and to the dump, where she had to personally supervise the destruction of confidential material, a time-consuming, messy job. 

Her release from work stress was dancing.  Hey, Selena, K.O. called to her chief Records clerk.  Do you want to go to the 'Big Chill' tonight?  Good Happy Hour.

Sure.

Let's see if Dalton wants to go too, yeah?

Okay.  What time you going?

As soon as I'm out of here.  Before I kill somebody.

Hey, did you hear about the new homicide?

Huh, uh.  I've been here all morning.  What happened?

Don't know.  Some kids found a body in the Natatorium last night.  Well, early morning.  Remember, we used to go drinking and hang out there?  Creepy, yeah?  Selena reached for a file and toppled the stack onto the floor.

I'll be so glad when, K.O. and Selena finished together, we're in the new building!  They picked up the files.

Selena said, Back to tonight--Dalton's in court, but I'll leave a message on his pager.  He's good fun.

He is good fun, K.O. agreed.

He likes you.  Selena emphasized 'likes'.

Hey, he's a great dancer and not afraid to dance in the cage with me, and he's good for a few drinks.  Can't get better than that.

I think that boy has a crush on you, and he might ask you to pay for those drinks someday.

Hey, it's almost time for lunch, and we still haven't decided where we're going to eat.

Before Selena could respond, the phone rang.

Records, Ogden.

Katrina Ogden?

Yes, can I help you?

Yes.  This is Miss Vanderpool from O'ahu Bank and Credit, and according to our records you have not made a payment to your Visa account for several months. When can we expect a payment?

What!  I paid that bill, as I do every month, and I paid it on time!

I'm sorry, but I don't show that on the computer. We'll have to restrict your card's use unless I have payment soon.  When shall I put down you'll be making your payment?

I paid that bill!  I always pay that bill!  I have never missed a month!

Are you saying you won't be making a payment?

Oh, my god.  Okay.  I'll send in another check, all right?

Yes.  When will that be?

Today, okay, today!  K.O. slammed down the receiver.

This is all I need!

What's up? Selena asked.

The bank never received my Visa payment, and on top of that, they say their computer records show I haven't paid in months.

Selena arched an eyebrow.  Well?

Well, what?  I always pay my bills!  I swear, these computers are great when they work, but when they don't, they sure can screw up your life!

They've been screwing up ours for the last two weeks--even before we shut half of them down.  Did you notice?

Of course I noticed, but what was I supposed to do about it with the move to the new station coming up? 

All right, already, don't bite my head off.  It's not like I did it.

Jeez.  You just can't argue with a computer.  K.O. stalked back to the counter.  Next!

Chapter 3

Sunrise found the forensics team still at work on the Waikiki Natatorium crime scene.  Yellow police tape billowed in the slight breeze, and the team members debated whether or not to drain the pool.  Detectives and evidence specialists in street clothes talked to a pair of wet-suited divers who had just exited the slimy green waters.  A crowd of curious tourists ogled from behind the barriers.

The young woman's nude body had been removed during the night and awaited autopsy at the morgue, however, homicide detective Gerald Lee already had a good idea of how she had died.

Detective Lee was tall for a Chinese man, but a mixed bag of ancestors had contributed to his stocky, well-muscled frame.  In his forties, he still had thick black hair and a slight case of vanity.  Today he wore a lightweight sports coat over a button-down shirt, navy chinos, and deck shoes.  Although he had been up much of the night, the pants were still sharply creased; his shirt and jacket reflected none of his discomfort in the morning heat.  The same could not be said for his mood.

I've got a tentative I.D., shouted a uniformed fourth watch officer from the beach.

Detective Lee frowned and gestured for the officer to come onto the pool deck.  Why don't you announce it to the general public now, and then we won't have to wait for the Advertiser to do it?

Sorry, sir.  It's just that one of the other fourth watch guys, Shimano, said she sounded like a hooker he's seen on Kuhio a lot.  He went down to the morgue to take a look, and after he threw up, said he was pretty sure.  He tried to stop her outside Vanity last night, you know that club on the corner?  The officer stumbled to a halt and swallowed uncertainly under Lee's unwavering gaze.

Fourth watch officers are fresh out of the academy, and usually given the turbulent Waikiki as their home turf. And the clothes under the bleachers, they, um match and under the swelling-and-slash-marks-I-guess-she-matches-too.  He finished in one breath.

Lee studied him some more.  Did anyone else see her?  Never mind.  I'll get my guys on it.  Vanity?  Got a name?

Vanity?

Of the victim!

Oh.  Shimano says her street name is Honey, but he didn't get any I.D., because she went into the club.  He was going to follow her, but there was a fight on the corner, and he went to assist.

She went into the club?  What else?  The officer seemed to shrink in front of Lee.  A wide swath opened to buffer the two men as specialists and officers eased out of range.

Lee gritted his teeth.  I see I need to talk to Shimano myself.  Don't you have somewhere else to be?  The officer scuttled away in sand-filled shoes.  Lee turned to another detective.  Find Shimano and have him meet me at the morgue, ASAP.  And finish up here.  I want the report by noon.

The time-consuming process of evidence collection went on until Lee left for the morgue.  Not much had been found:  Blood and tissue on the deck and a pile of folded clothes near the edge of the pool.  The team decided not to drain the pool since it was already contaminated, and the weak but definite tidal wash made definitive clues an impossibility.

Detective Lee pulled into the parking lot at the County Morgue and was gratified to be met by someone he assumed was Officer Greg Shimano.  Taller than Lee by an inch, the young man's streamlined body moved gracefully.  Hoping Shimano was less dense than the other fourth watch officer, Lee pressed the morgue door buzzer.

Sorry to get you on your time off, he said, noting Shimano's sweats and University of Hawaii Rainbows tee shirt.

Shimano smiled exposing slightly crooked front teeth.

No problem, sir.  I just didn't see the link until this morning.

The link?

I heard about the body last night before I got off at two, and I had already made that contact outside the nightclub, or I tried to anyway.  But until Gomes called me all excited and described the clothes you found and what she looked like, I just didn't see the connection.

Is Gomes the creature I talked to this morning?  Shimano looked blank.  Short, wiry brown hair, brown eyes, annoying terrier personality?

Shimano laughed.  Yes, sir.  That sounds about right.

Yes? a voice asked from the speaker panel next to the door.

Lee, homicide, howzit?  The door lock released.  Why did he call you?  They trudged upstairs.

He was on the corner when I field interviewed Honey, and he saw her too.

Was he on the corner when the fight broke out?  Shimano looked uncomfortable and ran a hand through his slightly wavy black hair.  Yes, sir.

And?

"I