Somebody asked, "Are we gonna rehearse with these fill-ins?"
“Today at three-any objections?"
There were none, and Kaupiko seemed about to adjourn the informal meeting, when Hully strolled up and said, "What do you guys think about Harry?"
About half of them had been getting up out of their chairs; all of them had wide-eyed, sucker-punched expressions.
Kaupiko, still in the director's position on the bandstand, turned and looked down and said, "Hiya, Hully-heard you and your old man found Pearl, and nabbed Harry."
"It was mostly Dad's doing…. I just wondered what you guys thought, you know, about whether Harry did it or not."
One of the guys, a Filipino whose name Hully didn't know, a sax player, asked, "I thought your father caught him red-handed."
"Red-handed in that he had blood on his hand… but maybe it got there 'cause he was trying to help her, or check the pulse in her neck. I just thought you guys should know that Harry denied killing Pearl-he could probably use some support about now. Somebody ought to go downtown and make sure he's got a good lawyer."
"Sounds like he'll need one," Kaupiko said.
"No question about that. But I thought maybe you fellas … his friends … would like to know that I, for one, found his story convincing."
"I can't believe Harry'd hurt a fly," Jack Wong said. He was also a sax player.
"He was crazy about Pearl," somebody else chimed in.
"Most people think his loving her is a motive," Hully said. "I'd just like to know if any of you guys ever saw Harry act violent-ever behave like a hothead, blow his top over anything."
Nobody said anything; everybody was sitting down again, and the band members exchanged glances, often shaking their heads.
Hully stood with hands on his hips. "How about Harry saying anything about Bill Fielder muscling in on him? Did Harry ever have a shouting match with Pearl, over that or anything else?"
No one said a word.
Hully searched the cheerless faces. "I'm not a cop … I'm just a friend of Harry's, who wants to make sure he doesn't get a raw deal outta this."
"Harry hardly ever raises his voice," Wong said. "That's his problem-we'd be playing at the Royal Hawaiian right now, with the following we got, if he was more aggressive."
Wong's fellow band members were nodding.
"Okay, guys," Hully said, easily. "Listen, I'll be over at my bungalow, for a while, if anybody wants to share anything, one to one, man to man. Okay?"
More nods.
Hully turned and headed out, to the tune of chairs getting pushed back and murmuring among the members.
Kaupiko caught up with him about halfway across the dance floor, taking Hully by the arm. "Let's talk," the trumpet player said, and nodded toward the courtyard, which the dining room opened onto.
The rock garden at the center had a little waterfall which made just enough noise to give them some additional privacy.
"Are you investigating Pearl's murder?" Kaupiko asked, his expression thoughtful.
"Not officially," Hully said. "But I think there's at least a possibliity that Harry Kamana is innocent, and I don't see the police going down that path."
"And if Harry's innocent, somebody else is …"
"The word is 'guilty,' Jim. Yes." Hully rocked back on bis heels. "How many of the band live here at the Niumalu?"
The round-faced musician stroked his chin, which was almost as blue as his shirt-he needed a shave.
"Besides Harry, and Pearl? Just a couple. Most are local. Harry's from the big island, though, and needs lodging when we work Oahu, which lately has been most of the time."
"I had the idea that Pearl lived with her uncle, that grocer, in Chinatown."
Kaupiko nodded. "She did, when she first came here. But once we got this steady gig at the Niumalu, Harry negotiated with Mr. Bivens to get her a room in the lodge."
"Who else lives here at the hotel?"
The musician looked around, rather furtively, apparently checking to see if any of his band mates were watching… or listening.
“Terry Mizuha," he said, finally. "He's the only guy besides Harry that was really cozy with Pearl."
"Did she date him, too?"
Kaupiko laughed.
"What's so funny, Jim?"
"Sorry." The musician's expression was sober again. "Listen, I don't want to talk outta school. Terry's a great guy, helluva guitar player."
"Okay-now drop the other shoe."
He shrugged. "I don't think Terry likes dolls. He's, uh … you know." Kaupiko held up his hand and made a sideways shaking gesture.
"But he and Pearl were friends?"
"Yeah. Sort of… 'girlfriends.' Hey, don't spread that around. We don't care about Terry's tastes-he's discreet and he's a good musician and he's our pal. Anyway, some of the people we work for might not hire us if they knew he was that way. So mum's the word."
"I appreciate you leveling with me, Jim."
Kaupiko sighed, shook his head. "We all loved Pearl. She could've taken us to Hollywood or somethin', someday, if some bastard hadn't done her in. And I want to thank you for saying what you did in front of the band-you really got everybody thinking. I mean, in our hearts we didn't believe Harry could have done that terrible thing … but we believed what we were told."
"That's understandable."
He sighed again, relieved this time. "Anyway, I'm going down to the police station and see about Harry-like you suggested."
"Good. Before you go, is there anything else you can think of, that might be pertinent?"
Kaupiko's eyes squeezed tight in thought. "Come to think of it… I did see Pearl have an argument last night, but not with Harry. Before we went onstage."
Hully leaned in. "Who with?"
"Do you know that Japanese diplomat, that idiot skirt-chaser Morimura?"
"I know who he is-he sat with Dad and me at the luau."
Kaupiko nodded. "Well, he had her cornered, out in the parking lot, away from everybody and everything, out by that big fancy car of his-it's a Lincoln. He was really chewing her out, shaking his finger at her….
She just had her arms folded and was taking it, chin up, kinda proud."
"Huh," Hully grunted. "What did you make of that?"
Kaupiko shrugged elaborately. "I didn't know what to think, and I never said a word to Pearl about it. I mean, I always thought that Morimura character was just a harmless grinning jerk, always chasing tail."
"You think Pearl and Morimura may have dated?"
Another, less elaborate shrug. "I suppose anything is possible. But it doesn't ring true, somehow. Morimura doesn't seem her type-she liked musicians, and she liked servicemen … that was about it. And that's the only time I ever saw them together."
"Okay."
Kaupiko gestured with a pointing finger. "If that cop asks me about this, I'm gonna tell him, too."
"Good. It's not a competition-in fact, say and do anything you can that will help get that guy Jardine off the dime, and looking at some suspects besides Harry Kamana."
The two men shook hands, and Kaupiko headed back toward the bandstand, while Hully returned to the lobby, intending to ask Bivens which room was Terry Mizuha's, wanting to talk to the guitar player.
But Bivens was no longer behind the front desk, apparently off doing some other Niumalu chore. That was all right-it was even good-because Hully didn't need Bivens's help to find Terry Mizuha.
The slender musician was sitting on a cushioned wicker chair, between two archways that looked out onto the parking lot.
Mizuha, in a cream sportshirt and white slacks and cream slippers, had almost delicate features-handsome but vaguely feminine, his dark hair long, slicked back like an Oriental George Raft. His Iong-lashed eyes were dark-circled and webbed with red.
"I hoped you might come through here," Mizuha said. His voice was soft, gentle, melodic. Hully pulled another of the wicker chairs up.