“Upon arrival, perhaps not,” Quincannon admitted. “But if they have a game on, their pattern has been to put a hold on public indulgence of their vices so as not to call attention to themselves. For all I know a week is enough time for them to finish their scurvy business, whatever it is, and be ready for a return voyage.”
“It’s just as likely they will be in the midst of it. The high-profit swindles they specialize in take time to set up.”
“Yes, but where and with whom? The game doesn’t have to be in Honolulu or even on Oahu. There are three or four other islands—”
“Eight altogether in the Hawaiian archipelago.”
“Eight makes the odds that much longer.”
“Well, you could seek the aid of the police.”
“In a backwater foreign country? They’re bound to be as inept as the bluecoats here.”
“Hawaii is not a foreign country,” Sabina reminded him. “The Sandwich Islands Kingdom was overthrown and Queen Lili‘uokalani’s reign ended in January of ’93, five years ago. If President McKinley and his partisans have their way, the Republic of Hawaii will be annexed as a United States territory later this year.”
“And if Japan doesn’t invade and annex it first, as they have threatened to do.”
“That isn’t likely to happen. It was last year that the Japanese dispatched warships, and only for a short time. The threat hasn’t materialized.”
Quincannon said gloomily, “It still might if this ill-advised war with Spain drags on.”
“The belief in Washington is that the war will end quickly. It has been only three weeks since the president signed the congressional resolution authorizing use of force to drive the Spanish out of Cuba.”
“War with Spain over the independence of a Caribbean island, and all because of a naval ship that may not have been sunk by sabotage as claimed. ‘Remember the Maine!’ Bah.”
“If not a consultation with the police,” Sabina said doggedly, “then why not engage the services of a member of our profession? Honolulu is a city of some size; there must be at least one private investigative agency. The Pinkertons would know.”
Quincannon gave his mutilated ear another tug. “Do you know what a round-trip ticket to Honolulu costs? The confiscatory sum of one hundred and fifty dollars. On top of which add the price of lodging, transportation rentals, and an added professional fee among other expenses. No, my dear, it just won’t do. Our client would never sanction such a trip.”
“He might given the circumstances,” Sabina said. “R. W. Anderson is a wealthy and an angry man, as you well know. The return of some or all of his stocks and bonds and the ruin of those two thieves is vital to him. You’ve had his financial support for two weeks now. Would you consider making the trip if he agreed to finance it?”
“Why are you so keen on the prospect of my going?” he said. “If I didn’t know better I might think you want to be rid of me.”
“Stuff and nonsense. I’m only thinking of your welfare. I know how you hate to mark an investigation unresolved and I couldn’t bear to see you mired in the doldrums for the Lord knows how long...”
Abruptly Sabina grew silent, her expression becoming oddly introspective. His gaze lingered on her; she was never more attractive to him than when she was in repose. On another day, in a better frame of mind, he would have been content to sit and admire her fine cameo features, her bright blue eyes and raven-black hair, her engaging smile, and count himself the luckiest of men to have her as his bride of six months. But not on this day. After a time her silence, broken only by the pattering of raindrops on the office roof and windows, became a trifle bemusing.
Quincannon tapped the bowl of his briar on the desktop to break her reverie. When he had her attention he asked, “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”
“An idea, John. A rather wonderful idea.”
“Yes? And that is?”
“Why don’t we both travel to Honolulu?”
Quincannon’s whiskers bristled like those on a startled dog. He stared at her. “Surely you’re joking.”
“Not at all. Despite the war, there have been no warnings against travel to the Islands. There is no real danger to the citizenry or to visitors; the troops being sent to protect Pearl Harbor will see to that. We have no pressing business on the docket other than the Anderson investigation, and I can help you track down Vereen and Nagle—”
“Anderson would never agree to paying passage for both of us.”
“No, nor should he be asked to,” Sabina said. “Our bank balance is substantial, as you well know. We can certainly afford to pay for my passage and expenses.”
He had a brief vision of hard-earned greenbacks vanishing in puffs of smoke. “And what would you do when your assistance was not needed?”
“The same things you can do once the swindlers have been found,” Sabina said. “Explore Honolulu and Oahu, sample exotic foods, lounge on a bathing beach... become indolent lotus-eaters for a change. The weather is warm in the Islands, John, not cold and dreary as it has been and may well continue to be here.”
“No,” he said, “it’s a daft notion.”
“Daft? Why is it daft?”
“Fourteen days at sea round trip. Another week or more on the hunt, and with no guarantee of success. Think of the business we’d lose if we closed the agency for three weeks to a month.”
“Chances are we wouldn’t lose much at all. And we would not have to close the agency. I’m sure Elizabeth Petrie would be willing to take temporary charge, as she has in the past when we’ve both been away, and she and our part-time operatives could handle most new investigations or their preliminaries.” Then, after a pause, she said pointedly, “Besides, your undercover job at the Monarch Mine last fall might well have lasted a month and you had no qualms about accepting that. Or have you forgotten?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Quincannon said. “But that was a lucrative business decision, and the assignment was completed in less than three weeks.”
“It still meant a postponement of our wedding.”
“I’ve apologized for that any number of times, my dear. But it has nothing to do with this fanciful notion of yours—”
“Fanciful? We have done nothing but labor long hours since November, and we have been apart far too much of the time. We deserve a vacation, even if it is a working one. Yes, and a second honeymoon, too.”
“What was wrong with our first honeymoon?”
“Not a thing,” she said. “It was lovely. But you must admit it was also quite brief, and the Valley of the Moon a place we had been to before. A pair of seven-day ocean voyages and a week on a tropical island would be a unique and memorable experience, one that would do us both a world of good.”
Quincannon said stubbornly, “No, it’s out of the question.”
“Not even if Mr. Anderson should agree to pay your passage?”
“Not in any case.”
“Is that your final word?”
“It is. Neither of us is going to Hawaii.”
His final word? Hah. He should have known better.
It took Sabina less than a day to change his mind.
She did not resort to pleading or cajoling to have her way; her woman’s wiles were too finely honed for that sort of ploy. Subtlety and finesse were her weapons. Without informing him beforehand, she sent a wire to R. W. Anderson and received by return wire confirmation of the investor’s willingness to finance his portion of an Island trip. She consulted with the local Pinkerton office and obtained the name of a reputable Honolulu private investigator, a former police constable named George Fenner. She also obtained Elizabeth Petrie’s promise to take charge of the agency in the event of their absence.