The three of us walked over to the full-height glass windows of the living room. We were on a slight bluff, and the land sloped down, toward the Pacific. Terri had told me the property spanned a hundred acres, most of it behind us and on the other side of the Kam Highway.
Bishop’s land looked out at prime surfing area, but his fence ran down to the water’s edge and kept surfers out. I saw that he probably kept Rich busy patrolling the waterfront-though today there were likely to be few surfers at any of the public beaches, no less trying to sneak onto Bishop’s land.
The sky was a clear light blue, and there were no clouds in sight. There was mostly scrub, broken with the occasional splash of color, between us and the ocean, which rolled and frothed relentlessly against the shore. We watched the waves for a few minutes, then Bishop sat us down at a massive koa wood dining table, brought out lemonade in French crystal glasses, and spread out the plans for Bishop’s Bluff Estate Homes.
“You’ll see, it’s going to be beautiful,” he said, unrolling the first drawing. “Not some ticky-tacky little place like they put up nowadays.” The plan showed a circular drive, much like the one at Cane Landing, with an entrance down on the Kam Highway and a guard house. The houses were situated on the bluff so that each one had at least a partial ocean view. He laid out a couple of other drawings, of each style of house. They looked much like where I was staying, and I had a feeling I was looking at the property Ari had talked to me about.
“This one’s going to be mine,” Bishop said, pointing proudly at a lot at one end. “I’ll still be able to see all the way down to Hale’iwa.”
“What about all the land behind us?” Terri said, pointing to the area on the other side of the highway.
“Clubhouse and swimming pool,” he said. “If we can get the zoning changed to multi-family, we’ll put a couple of low-rise condo buildings up there. Max six stories, very high-end.”
“I’m a little worried about developing all the land,” Terri said carefully, “and I know my father and Aunt Emma are too. They might be willing to agree to change the deed restrictions if they knew part of the property would be preserved.”
“The mauka part?” Bishop asked, meaning the area on the mountain side of the highway.
“I think I could get them to agree to that.”
“I’d have to see what Ari says.”
“Harry?” Terri asked, but I’d already recognized the name.
“Ari. Short for Aristotle. Young Greek fella. He’s the one put all the money together to buy the land and get the construction started.”
“Can I take a copy of these plans with me?” Terri asked. “I’d love to be able to show my dad and Aunt Emma what you’re considering.”
“Sure. I’ve got more sets here somewhere.” He rolled up the drawings for us, and then we sat and drank lemonade for a while. I watched the ocean while Terri talked about family stuff, and finally we all stood up and said our goodbyes.
“I’ll get Rich to open the gate for you,” he said.
“What do you need a security guard for, Uncle Bishop?” Terri asked. “Has the North Shore gotten a lot more dangerous?”
“People today have no respect for private property,” Bishop said. “Surfers used to traipse through here like it was public beach. I put up the fence and the gate, but that hardly stopped anybody. So I hired Rich to keep an eye on things. He’s had to fire a few warning shots, but people have started to get the message.”
“I don’t like the idea of anybody shooting up here, Uncle Bishop. Somebody could get hurt, and sue you, or sue the Trust. I don’t think my father or Aunt Emma would like that.”
“My brother and my aunt can jump in the Pacific and drown, for all I care,” Bishop said, raising his voice. “Your father has looked down his nose at me since we were kids, and I’m sick and tired of it. And as for Aunt Emma, well, I never fit her idea of what a Clark should be, and the older I get, the less interested I am in that idea. And you can tell her I said that.”
There was a knock on the back door, and it opened a moment later. “I heard some shouting. Everything okay in here, Mr. Clark?” Rich asked.
“These folks are just leaving,” Bishop said. “You can open the gate for them.”
Terri looked like she wanted to say more to her uncle, at least kiss him goodbye, but he turned and walked back toward the dining room. We got back into the Land Rover, and Terri turned around, then headed out the drive. Rich had already opened the gate, and as we headed toward the Kam Highway my last view was of him pushing the gate closed again.
A Place Like This
“I’ve got a lot to tell you,” I said, as we reached the Kam Highway. “You in a hurry to get back?”
“Nope. My mother’s picking up Danny at school, and she can give him dinner if I call.”
“Then you can follow me up to my new digs. I think you’ll want to see it.”
While we headed back to Rosie’s so I could pick up my truck, I told her what I knew about Rich and the accident in Bosnia that had ruined him for surfing. “So he’s pretty bitter,” she said.
“You bet. I’m going to look up any incident reports involving Bishop’s property, see if Rich really was shooting at people.”
“Lovely. That’s a detail I think I’ll leave out of my report to Aunt Emma.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Terri followed me up to Cane Landing. I motioned her around me, so that I could open the gate for her, and then open it again for myself, and then I jumped around her to lead her up to the third house.
“Boy, you’re moving up in the world,” she said, as we both got out in the driveway.
“Wait til you see the inside. And it’s all courtesy of Aristotle Papageorgiou.”
“Let me guess. The young Greek fella.”
“You got it.”
“Interesting.”
I gave her the grand tour, and she oohed and aahed appropriately. There were still a couple of Konas left, and we sat down in the living room with them. “So this Aristotle must be some kind of North Shore real estate mogul,” she said.
“Seems like it. He’s a nice enough guy-I mean, it’s certainly nice of him to put me up here. And he doesn’t know that I know you, or Bishop, so it’s not like he’s doing it so I’ll help him in some way.”
She slipped off her pumps and slid her feet underneath her, relaxing on the leather sofa. “Speaking of Bishop, didn’t you find all those guns kind of creepy?”
“It’s a guy thing,” I said. “My dad has a couple of guns, and so do my brothers. Almost every guy I know owns at least one gun.”
“Not Harry.”
“Um, actually, yes, Harry has a nine millimeter Glock. I helped him pick it out.”
Terri shook her head. “Like I said before, boys and their toys.”
I took a swig of my Kona. “Only your uncle has some toys that can do some serious harm. That buffalo gun that can shoot at a thousand yards, for starters.”
“Could you shoot a surfer with a gun like that?”
“You’re reading my mind. I think so. Maybe not that gun, because it’s an antique, and there might be some rust or other damage inside. But a rifle like that, sure, you could shoot somebody off a board if you were a good enough shot.”
She sat up and pulled her legs around to the floor again. “How about Rich? I didn’t like him. Something about him gives me the creeps.”
“Something like his prosthetic leg?” I kicked out with my right leg.
Terri frowned. “I can’t say I like that, but no, it’s not that. Something about his personality.” She rubbed her upper arms.
“He’s a security guard, Terri. I don’t much like him, either, but I don’t think a charming personality is a prerequisite for being a guard.”
“You think he hates surfers enough to start killing them?” She shuddered. “I hope Uncle Bishop hasn’t gone so far around the bend that he’s involved in what you’re investigating.”