I replied by saying I’d only agree if I could challenge him and Haoa to a surf contest, and I copied the entire family on the message.
My older brothers had been great surfers in their day. Neither had pushed it as far as I had, but both were good, and both still kept their boards in their garages, though I doubted either had been on the water for years. My father even promised that he would join us for a wave or two if we would all go out together. I could just imagine what my mother thought of that idea, but as my father got older, he never missed a chance to hang out with his boys.
Sampson must have been online himself that afternoon, because I got an email back almost immediately, authorizing me to fly to Maui to talk to people about Ronnie Chang. It wasn’t a big deal; an inter-island flight takes about half an hour, and the round trip, with a rental car, would be under $200. I was able to get a reservation for the next morning, which meant I needed to be at the airport in Honolulu early. I decided to drive down that night and sleep in my own bed-but I didn’t tell my family or friends, because I didn’t want to have to come up with yet another lie.
It was strange pulling into my own parking lot, climbing the stairs to my own little studio apartment. I had only been away for two weeks, but I had immersed myself so much in my new life on the North Shore that I almost felt like I didn’t belong back in Honolulu. Or maybe it was that I knew I didn’t belong back there until I had solved the murders.
I had been waking before sunrise every day, so the next morning I was able to make it to the airport in plenty of time for my flight. The Hawaiian Airlines agent recognized my name at the gate and winked at me, but that was the extent of my notoriety. I figured I had finally slid out of the newspapers, and I was able to settle back into a bit of anonymity.
I got into Kapalua-West Maui Airport on the Valley Isle a little after ten. I had a list of things to check out-Ronald Chang’s high school, and his parents’ restaurant, for starters. I was also going to cruise a couple of surf shops, looking for anyone who might have known him.
I took the Honoapiilani Highway, which circles around West Maui, down to Lahaina, where I was looking for Victor Texeira, the computer science teacher at Lahainaluna High. I was somewhat surprised to discover, when I asked at the office for him, that I was directed to the gym, rather than to a computer lab.
There was only one teacher in the gym when I stuck my head in there, a very fit guy in very tight clothes, with a whistle around his neck. When one of the kids called him, “Coach Tex,” I was even more confused.
“Can I help you?” he asked, coming over to me. “You guys do two laps, then hit the showers,” he called to the kids, who promptly took off around the perimeter of the gym.
I gave him my name, and he said, “I’m Victor Texeira.” He smiled. “The kids call me Coach Tex, as you heard.”
I had worked out a story in advance. I explained that I was a former homicide detective, and that I’d been asked to look into a series of murders that had occurred on the North Shore. All that was true. I have discovered, in years of listening to lies and pulling them apart, that those lies which are most closely rooted in truth are the easiest ones to maintain.
One of the victims had been Ronnie Chang, his former student, I continued. “I’m a little confused, though,” I said. “I thought from what I read online that you taught computer science.”
“I do, one class. Mostly I’m the gym teacher, though.” He motioned to a room at one corner of the gym with glass windows looking out on the floor. “Come on into my office and I’ll explain.”
I followed him, noting privately how his little gym shorts hugged his ass, the way his pecs and biceps bulged out of the skin-tight polo shirt he wore. I was pretty sure he was straight; he wore a wedding band and one of those little Jesus fish pins at his collar. Even so, I rarely saw a straight man dress so provocatively. I could even tell he was wearing a jock strap under his shorts-that’s how tight they were.
“I want you to know, I’m not normally the type of guy to speak ill of the dead,” he said, opening the door to the office and motioning me inside. “But in this case, I’ll make an exception.”
“Tell me how you knew Ronald Chang,” I said, sitting across from his desk. The room was lined with trophies, certificates and commendations, including pictures of Coach Tex with the governor and both state senators.
“It was my first year here,” he said, sitting. “I was hired as a coach, but the state had just installed this email system for us, and they needed somebody to administer it. I had just graduated from UH, and I’d lived in a computer-equipped dorm, so that made me the most qualified.”
“Ronald Chang was a student then? How old was he?”
“He was a junior,” Texeira said. “Ringleader of a bunch of kids who didn’t take gym seriously. Every day they’d come in with obviously faked excuses-recovering from a cold, can’t get overheated, that kind of thing. Then on the weekend I’d see them all at Breakwall or Shark Pit, surfing like there was nothing wrong with them.”
I knew Breakwall and Shark Pit, both decent surfing spots in Lahaina. “That must have pissed you off,” I said.
“It did. So one day I decided I’d get even. I came up with a bunch of exercises designed specifically for surfing. Nothing elaborate-your standard strength conditioning, flexibility and so on, but I packaged it right. I waited to collect everybody’s excuses, then I announced this special program all week. But anybody who was sick that day couldn’t start, and would have to miss the whole week.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I was twenty-two and cocky. I thought I’d really put one over on them.”
“Something happened, I’m sure.”
He nodded. “The next day, somebody hacked into the school’s computer system, and sent a bunch of x-rated emails from my address to a bunch of the female teachers. I nearly got fired-it was clear that I didn’t send the emails, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping the network secure either.” He shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t know all that much about computers. Ronnie hacking into the system showed our weak points.”
“You know it was him?”
“We couldn’t prove it, but I just had to see his nasty smirk to know he did it. I had one more trick up my sleeve, though.”
“What was that?”
“I created a computer club, and made him the president. The club was charged with helping the school maintain its system. So he had to find every hole and plug it up.”
“Isn’t that dangerous-putting the fox in the henhouse?”
“It was a risk. But I thought if everyone knew he had all access, and then something happened, suspicion would fall directly on him. So he had to keep things clean to protect himself.”
“He must have been a pretty sharp kid.”
“He was. But he had a sneaky side, and I never trusted him. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t surprised at all when I heard he’d been killed.” Suddenly a thought occurred to him, and he got serious. “You won’t tell his parents any of this, will you? I wouldn’t want to trespass on their grief. I’m just telling you this because, you know…”
“I appreciate everything you’ve said, and I’ll keep it in confidence.” I stood up, and Victor Texeira stood with me. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate your candor.” I paused before walking out the door, though. “Is there anyone here in Maui who might know more about Ronnie as an adult?”
Texeira thought for a moment. “There’s a guy named Will Wong who was a classmate of Ronnie’s. He works in a surf shop in downtown Lahaina called Totally Tubular.”
“Great. Thanks.” We shook hands, and maybe it was my imagination, but I thought he held my hand a little longer than he should have, and looked a little too directly into my eyes.