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Kent started to rise. “You fool!”

“Sit down, Mister Kent.”

But Kent continued to rise and that was the last I saw of him for a moment. Ruiz scrambled for the gun on the floor and Chun and I dove for it at the same moment. Mrs. Ford’s little boy, Johnny, came up with the gun in time to see Kent whirl and fire at Malo. Malo went down on one knee and put another shot where it would do the most good, in Kent’s arm. Kent dropped his gun, cast a wild look around the room and raced toward Norris and MacDonald who were rooted to the floor near the window. I tried a wing shot, caught Kent in the thigh. His leg buckled but he kept going. I threw another shot and Kent’s other leg buckled. But it was too late. Norris made a halfhearted attempt to grab him as his body pitched forward and crashed through the window. There was no sound after the smashing of the glass. Just silence.

Suddenly the front door banged open and a Chinese raced in. “Everything O.K.?” He stopped, surprised. “Where’s Mr. Kent?”

“Quick! Where’s other fella?” Malo shouted.

“Damn cop got him,” the Chinese said. “I winged the cop. What am I supposed to—?” Suddenly an awful suspicion crossed his face and his gun came up. Malo and I cut him down at the same moment.

Malo turned to the rest of us. “And that ends that,” he said, without a trace of pidgin.

The clock in my cottage living room said three A.M. and I was on my fourth drink and couldn’t even feel it. I was still wound up. Maile Sherrod sat across from me doing very well on her third drink.

“... That about winds it up,” I said. “This big lug wasn’t Hawaiian at all but Samoan. The Federal Narcotics Bureau needed an undercover man and they wanted somebody with a Polynesian background who was unknown. So they borrowed Harry Malo from the Samoan police. Malo had found out that the Hobron Club was a distribution point and had gotten a job there as dishwasher. He got on to Kahalawai and Ruiz, and he thought Vecelli was the boss but he didn’t have any evidence to prove it. He spent six months working his way into Ruiz’s good graces and when Kahalawai went out of the picture Ruiz took him on.”

“But he was with Ruiz when Anne was killed.”

“There wasn’t anything he could do about it. He didn’t know what was up until they spotted Anne at my door and Ruiz had fired. Malo had to string along. He did make it easier for me though. Twice he stopped Ruiz from working my skull over and he cut the ropes that allowed me to escape from Vecelli. He did everything he could do without giving himself away.”

Maile still looked puzzled. “What happened to all that dope?”

I shrugged. “We don’t know for sure but we think that Kent had given up the game rather than take any more risks. He was a gambler but he was no fool. If we’re right, he probably dumped it somewhere off the reef, possibly when Ruiz and Malo were supposed to be taking care of me. The cops, the Federal boys and the Coast Guard are going to start dragging for it this morning.”

Maile sighed. “It’s as wild a story as I ever heard.”

I thought about Norris’ folded check in my wallet and it didn’t seem so wild to me. “Well, it’s practically finished,” I said.

“Practically?”

“There’s one more thing to clear up.”

Maile looked inquiring.

“What were you doing on the second floor of the Hobron Club tonight?”

Maile blushed. “Looking for you.”

“You left a telephone message for me in the afternoon. What was the important thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“It was just a wild idea I had.”

“What was it?”

“It sounds foolish.”

“What was it?”

She blushed to the roots of her hair. “Well, I... kind of wanted to see you again so I conceived the bright idea of suggesting that you stay out here a while and maybe open a branch of your agency. It was just a gag.” She stared at me defiantly.

I put down my drink and got up. “O.K.,” I said, advancing on her, “I can go along with a gag.”