Akoni came in then with a cup of coffee and a couple of malasadas. I took a malasada gratefully, and told Akoni what I’d learned.
“The pieces are starting to come together,” he said. He finished the last of the malasadas and washed it down with the dregs of his coffee. “Let’s get this show on the road. You got the picture of Gonsalves?”
I held it up to him. It was only a five by seven, but it would do. I called Derek Pang and told him I had a photo I wanted him to identify. “I’ve got to go down to the club,” he said. “Can you meet me there?”
“Sure,” I said. “How about Wayne? Will he be there too?”
“He has to stay here,” Derek said. “We’re expecting a delivery, and then he has to take that package out to the airport.”
“I’d like to get you both to identify the picture,” I said. “Hold on.” I put my hand over the phone and explained to Akoni.
“I’ll get a color Xerox of the photo and go to the club,” he said. “You take that copy and go meet Wayne.”
I told Derek what we wanted to do and he agreed. A half hour later I was on my way to their apartment. The door was ajar when I knocked, and a voice from inside called, “Come on in, the door’s open.”
When I walked in, I found Wayne Gallagher in the living room, wearing the same kimono he’d worn before, only this time he hadn’t bothered to tie it. The sides hung open, revealing a swath of hairy blond chest, a patch of groin and a long leg covered with fine light-colored hairs.
I got hard almost immediately. There was something incredibly sexy about him standing there. My mouth was dry; I had to swallow before I could say, “I’d like you to take a look at this picture and see if you can identify it.”
He sat down on the sofa, casually arranging the open robe to cover his groin, and then patted the seat next to him. When I hesitated, he said, “Come on, I won’t bite.” Then he grinned. “Not unless you want me to.”
I was sure he could tell I had an erection-my dick was straining against my pant leg, rubbing against the fabric as I moved across the room. I sat down next to him, not touching him, and I had to reach down and adjust myself. “Let me see,” he said.
I handed him the picture. “Hunky. That’s him all right. That’s the cop Tommy was paying off.”
“That’s the man who was at the club the night Tommy was killed?”
“That’s him.”
He adjusted his robe a little so that the head of his penis peeked out the side. “You’re very sexy, do you know that?” He put his hand on my arm and my flesh tingled.
I took the picture from him and put it back in the envelope, gently shrugging his hand off. “Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.” I started to get up.
“Hold on a minute.” He pulled on my sleeve and I sat back down next to him. He looked directly at me, and I felt a shiver of sexual tension run through me. I didn’t know what to do.
He took my right hand and slid it under his kimono, leaving it to rest on his cock, which began to harden at my touch. My mouth was dry again. I couldn’t say anything. He leaned over and kissed me.
I started to stroke his dick, which was fully erect by then. He kissed me harder, pressing his tongue into my mouth, then kissing my upper lip and running his tongue behind it. I kissed him back, though I knew it was wrong.
He pushed me back on the sofa and started unbuttoning my shirt, continuing to kiss me and then, when he could, tweaking my nipples until they were hard and sore. I was totally swept up in the passion of the moment, more passion than I could ever remember feeling, and couldn’t resist him at all. Soon my aloha shirt was open and he’d undone my pants. It was an incredible rush when he freed my cock from my shorts and then leaned down and put his mouth on it.
I ran my fingers through his curly blond hair. He teased me with his tongue, bringing me to the point of release, and then pulled back. “You like that, don’t you,” he said, bringing his face back up to mine. “Faggot cop,” he whispered, running his tongue over my lips. “Cocksucker cop.”
I wanted to get away, but I couldn’t. He had me totally in his control. Even as he kept calling me names, he licked and squeezed and teased me and I couldn’t do anything about it. He went down on me again and this time I thought I’d never felt such exquisite agony. Then there was a heavy knock on the door, which I had closed behind me.
“That’s my delivery,” Wayne said. “Don’t move.”
He got up and went to the door. I knew this was my only chance. I stood up, buttoning my pants and shirt hurriedly. My whole groin was wet with his saliva and my sweat. My hair was tousled and I’d missed a button on my shirt.
Wayne came back from the door holding a box the size of a small computer. “You can’t leave yet,” he said. “We’ve hardly started.”
He put the box down and came toward me, but I ducked around him and headed for the door. “Thanks for your help,” I said. I made it out into the hallway and to the elevator, where I pressed the down button.
He came to the door and stood there, his robe hanging open, his large dick hard and standing straight away from his body. “You want it,” he said. “Come back, baby. Let me give it to you.” He put his hand on his dick.
My mouth was dry again. The elevator came and I got in. As the doors closed I heard the phone ringing in the apartment and I could see Wayne still standing in the doorway, holding his dick and licking his lips. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood escaping from the wolf.
All the way back to Waikiki I kept thinking about Wayne Gallagher. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, was it-one person taking such control. There was a meanness under his sexuality that scared me-those names he called me, the roughness he’d used when he’d tweaked my nipples. It scared me to think that I liked that, that I had responded to that kind of treatment. What if that was really what turned me on-guys in leather harnesses with chains and handcuffs, hurting me in the name of pleasure? I had what I considered an essential belief in human dignity, in the need to treat everyone with respect. It was one of the cornerstones of my life as a cop. What if in my personal life I couldn’t hold on to that?
Akoni had gotten a positive ID from Derek, and we met back at the station to complete the paperwork for Evan’s arrest. We had gotten a fax of the autopsy for the body found in Kapiolani Park, but we had to shelve it until we finished with Tommy Pang’s murder. It took the rest of the morning, and it was almost two o’clock before I called Evan’s office to say I needed to meet with him. “He’s not in today,” the unit secretary told me. “A personal day. His wife had to fly to Maui for the day, so he’s home with his son.” She paused, and I could hear her sucking on the straw in the giant-sized water bottle I knew she kept by her desk. “He’s taking calls out there, though,” she continued. “I’ve already referred a couple of people out to him already.”
I relayed the news to Akoni. I didn’t want to have to arrest Evan in front of Danny, but once we got to the Gonsalves house in Wailupe, we’d deal with that.
We drove out in his Taurus, with Saunders and Alvy Greenberg in a black and white behind us for backup. We pulled up in the half-round driveway, behind Evan’s Saturn, and rang the doorbell.
No one answered. I put my ear up to the door and listened. I heard what sounded like a child crying, though at the time I thought it might have been Evan. “Evan!” I called. “It’s Kimo. Let me in.”
No answer. I looked at Akoni. Without saying anything, we split up and walked around the house in opposite directions. There was a lot of landscaping and it was hard to get close to the building. We met again in the backyard, where there was a stone lanai with a hibiscus hedge. From there we could see into the living room through sliding glass doors.