Danny jumped into my arms for a goodbye hug.
“And you make sure this guy brings you over to the fire house sometime,” Mike said.
Danny stuck his hand out to Mike to shake again. “All right!”
DOING THE RIGHT THING
Mike and I were driving down Kalakaua on our way back to my apartment when I saw two kids I recognized-Frankie and Lolo from the Gay Teen Center. I pulled over and called out to them from the truck.
They were both dressed suspiciously-form-fitting tank tops that didn’t quite reach their waists, and then board shorts that slipped down their hips, exposing both a band of skin and the elastic waistbands of their briefs. Jesus, were they working the street? When I’d seen them at Ala Moana Park on Saturday night, I’d thought they were dating, the way they palled around.
“You guys seen Jimmy lately?” I asked.
Up close I could see that Frankie was wearing some kind of eye makeup. And either Lolo was very glad to see me, or he’d been padding his crotch. But those were problems I couldn’t address right then.
Frankie and Lolo looked at each other and neither spoke for a minute. “It’s important,” I said. “I’m worried about him.”
Finally Frankie said, “We saw him at Ala Moana Beach Park last night.”
“Was he working?” I asked.
Frankie looked down at his feet and shuffled around for a minute.
Finally Lolo said, “Yeah. He looked like shit.”
“If you see him again,” I said. “You tell him everything’s okay where he was, that they want him back. Tell him to come to me. I’ll take care of him.”
I opened my wallet and pulled out all the money I had, a few twenties, and handed them to Frankie. “I want to be the only guy you take money from tonight, all right?”
“We can’t take your money,” Lolo said.
“Why? Because I don’t want a blow job in exchange?” I asked. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, Lolo, and I don’t have time to fuck around with you. Take the money, go get yourselves some dinner, and stay off the street. Cause if Vice picks you up, I will bail you out. And then I will beat the shit out of you. Got that?”
Both boys opened their eyes wide. Lolo reached out and took the money from my hand. “Someday I want a boyfriend like you,” he said, and he grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him away.
“You’ve got an admirer,” Mike said.
“Don’t start. Can we go down to Ala Moana Park?”
“Sure. And don’t worry, dinner’s on me tonight.”
While we struggled through the busy streets of Waikiki, I told him about Jimmy Ah Wong, how I felt responsible for outing him to his dad. “You didn’t do it, he did it,” Mike finally said.
“Because I told him it was the right thing to do, to testify against those guys. I promised to look out for him.”
“And you have.”
“Yeah, like I’ve been looking out for Danny Gonsalves,” I said. “Like I’m keeping Frankie and Lolo off the streets. Like I kept Sampson’s stepdaughter from interfering in the investigation.”
I found I was gripping the steering wheel and consciously tried to relax.
Mike said, “I think you have the kindest, strongest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Gee, here I thought you only liked me for my looks.”
“I’ve known who you were for a few months now,” Mike said.
I glanced over and saw that he was looking out the window, not at me.
“I did think you were handsome, the first time I saw you on TV. But more than that, I admired you so fucking much for being brave enough to be who you are.”
I didn’t say anything, but I swallowed, trying to get down the lump in my throat.
“Every time I’d go over to the police station, I’d be keeping my eye out for you. I thought you were this larger-than-life figure, and I kept thinking about you. I knew that the only way I’d get over you was to see you in person.”
I felt him turn my way, and looked over at him. “Then when I saw you carrying that dead chicken, I realized that you were a real guy, not just some fantasy figure. I don’t know if I’d ever have had the nerve to talk to you, if we hadn’t been thrown together because of the bombing.”
“Your loss,” I said lightly.
We finally passed the Ilikai Hotel and traffic eased up. “You play the hand you’ve been dealt,” I said. “That’s all I’ve been trying to do.” I reached my right hand over to him, and he took it and squeezed.
We parked at the Ala Wai Yacht Club, where Gilligan and his crew had left for their three-hour tour, and we walked the whole park, looking for Jimmy Ah Wong, with no success. We ate dinner at the Gordon Biersch at the Aloha Tower, but I couldn’t enjoy the sunset, worrying about Jimmy and Kitty and how I’d ever get this case solved.
The beer seemed flat, the food tasteless. The only good thing was that I was with Mike. After we ate, we drove around downtown, checked the park one more time, then cruised Waikiki for a while. By eleven, we were both exhausted and had to give up.
He’d left his truck in a garage on Waikiki earlier, and I dropped him there so he could move it to my apartment. When he met me at the outside stair, he was carrying a gym bag. “Running up to Aiea to get clean clothes every morning is getting old,” he said. “You don’t mind me assuming, do you?”
“Not a bit.” He walked up the stairs ahead of me and I swatted his butt.
Wednesday morning I woke up next to Mike. For a couple of minutes I just lay there, resting on one elbow, looking at him. His chin was grizzled, his dark, curly hair tousled. He looked like a sleeping angel. I decided it was a way I wanted to wake up a lot in the future.
A little later, after some fun in the shower, we walked together to a cafe near my apartment, got malasadas and coffee, and then, under the outside stairs to my building, kissed goodbye.
When I reached the main station, there was an urgent message from Billy Kim in ballistics. Rather than call, I went downstairs to his lab. “Kimo, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I found something strange and I want to show it to you.”
He pulled out a blown-up photo of a bullet. “This is what you brought us from your shooting victim yesterday.”
“Charlie Stahl.”
“Right. See the grooves here on the sides? Very distinctive. Comes from a small, lightweight gun, most likely a Smith amp; Wesson Chief’s Special Airweight.”
“Good.”
“Wait, there’s more.” He brought over the poster I’d seen the day before.
“Not the chicken again, Billy.”
“You’re going to like this, Kimo. Look at the grooves. See? Same pattern.”
“So whoever killed the old man and the chicken also used a Chief’s Special Airweight.”
“More than that. Look at this little notch here. See how it matches in both pictures? That’s more than just the same model. It’s the same gun.”
“You’re saying the same gun was used to kill Charlie Stahl as was used in the two shootings in Makiki?”
“I’d swear to it in court.”
“Whoa. This is wild.” I stood up. “I’ve got to think about this one. Thanks, Billy-this could be the break I need. If I can just figure out how to use it.”
When I got back to my desk my phone was ringing. “Kanapa’aka, Homicide.”
“Hey, hey, Special K,” Harry said. “How’s it hanging, brah?”
“You won’t believe what I just found out.” I told him about the ballistics match.
“Tell me everything you know about the old man,” he said. I did. “Now tell me everything you know about Charlie Stahl’s murder.”
I did that, too. I could almost hear the wheels clicking in his brain. “Do you think Charlie Stahl knew Hiroshi Mura?”
“I doubt it. I’ll check, you never know who knows who in Hawai’i.” I thought of something. “You know, they didn’t necessarily have to know each other. But they both had some connection to the murderer.”