Before we return to Kailua I check my voicemail from Fernandez. He says to call him back immediately. More about Kula? I’d rather not bother now, with Marie waiting in the car, but I may need Frank’s continued cooperation on this case.
Speaking of Kula, he’s soaking wet from his swim. We pat his coat with a couple of towels supplied by Dr. Kitagawa and say our goodbyes.
Then I return Frank’s call. We get the preliminaries out of the way and he says, “Kai, I got a call early this morning from a Lieutenant Monet of the Paris Police.”
“Monet, like the painter?” I ask.
“Yes. In fact, Lieutenant Monet tells me her husband is a distant relation of the painter. She speaks good English too, does Lieutenant Monet.”
“That’s swell, Frank. Really swell.”
“Kai, now tell me the truth. You’re surprised I know about Monet, aren’t you?”
“Whad’ya mean, Frank?”
“C’mon, Kai. I’m a local boy from Kalihi. And you’re wondering, what would Frank Fernandez know about French art?”
“The thought never crossed my mind, Frank.” Actually, the thought did cross my mind.
“Guess what Lieutenant Monet wanted to talk about?”
I have a sinking feeling. “No idea, Frank. Tell me?”
“You, Kai. She wanted to talk about you.”
“No kidding?”
“How about you stop by my office later this afternoon? I’ll fill you in.”
“Sure, Frank, I can do that.”
“I’ll see you then. And bring the dog. It’s time you returned him to Maile.” He hangs up.
“What was that about?” Marie asks.
“What happened in Paris is catching up with us in Hawai‘i. Your stepfather and I are on the list.”
Marie is silent. But no sooner do we get rolling on Kalaniana‘ole Highway than she asks me to pull over. I do on the first street that comes up, Portlock Road—the road that leads to her family’s home.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Let’s confront my stepfather now,” she says. “It’s clear he did it and it’s time to make him pay.”
“A little early for that,” I say. “We can prove he came to O‘ahu that night, although he claimed he didn’t. But we can’t prove he killed your mother. Yet.”
“It’s so obvious!” she interrupts me. “Why else would he come here secretly on the night she died? And we know what Detective Fernandez didn’t know—my mother was planning to divorce him.”
“It looks obvious to me too and that’s what troubles me. Frank may not have been at his best, but he’s no dummy.”
Then she says, “I’m your client. You work for me now, not for my stepfather.”
“That’s true,” I admit, although she didn’t have to put it quite that way. Then I recall that Marie, as pleasant and congenial as she can be, is an heiress. Should I be surprised when she behaves like an heiress?
“I’m going to confront him,” Marie insists. “And if you don’t come with me, I’ll confront him alone.”
“We don't know how he might react. He could get violent."
“I took a self-defense course in Paris,” she says. “Nicole and I. We learned how to take a man down.”
Bad idea. But if I abandon Marie to her stepfather and he harms her I couldn’t live with myself.
"Okay,” I say. “Your stepfather wants to see me anyway. But you’ve got to promise you won’t attempt your self-defense moves. I’ll defend you, if it comes to that.”
Marie says nothing.
“Agree?” I ask.
She slowly nods.
I send Dr. Grimes a text that I’m in the neighborhood and could drop by if he’s available. I apologize that I have my dog with me.
I get a text back almost instantly: “The sooner the better. Dog OK.”
Before I drive the few blocks to Marie’s home, she says she’s not going to come in with me, but hide in the car so her stepfather doesn’t spook and let neither of us in. Once I’m inside she’ll quietly use a side door that leads to her bedroom and will wait there until an opportune moment. She still has a key, she says.
I think to myself, That bedroom can’t be full of good memories for her.
Marie ducks behind me in the back where my board usually rides. So it’s just Kula and me in the front seat when I stop by the palm grove and gate that hides the oceanfront estate. I step out, speak into the intercom, and hear Dr. Grimes’ silky smooth voice once again. He expresses surprise that I’ve arrived so quickly and then the gate slowly opens and I drive in.
After Kula waters Dr. Grimes’ ferns, the man himself shows up at the door, in his Freudian full beard. Kula’s tail stops wagging. He doesn’t growl, but he doesn’t approach the doctor either. Strange. Kula loves everyone. Everyone loves Kula. Well, except Blitz.
“Come in,” the psychiatrist says, “both of you.”
I gesture to the sunny retriever. “Thanks for letting me bring him. He’s acclimating to a new home, I’m afraid.” The minute these words leave my mouth I wish I hadn’t said them. But it’s too late.
Dr. Grimes seems uninterested in Kula. He says, “Took you a while to get back to me. But, then, maybe you were still in Paris?”
I nod. No point in trying to explain.
He leads Kula and me into the foyer. I glance back at my car. No sign of Marie. We pass into the spacious living room that looks out on distant Diamond Head. I notice again the doctor’s limp. And then I see his mountain bike and scale model of his former speedboat, Sea Ya Later. These two objects of his affection remind me that he prides himself on being what he calls an active man. In light of Marie’s revelations, the phrase takes on new meaning. The doctor is no doubt a molester. Is he also a murderer?
I sit on one of two couches on either side of his mango coffee table. The doctor sits across from me. Kula plants himself on a rug by my feet, remaining tense and alert. There’s something about the man that unsettles him. I stroke the golden and try to calm him.
Dr. Grimes doesn’t waste time. “The reason I called you is because I’ve been contacted by Honolulu Police about the death of my stepdaughter’s boyfriend in Paris.”
I hear the faint sound of my car’s door being snapped shut. Marie must be making her move to her bedroom. The doctor doesn’t notice, but Kula’s body tightens even more as if he’s tracking a bird.
“Apparently,” Dr. Grimes keeps rolling, “Paris Police contacted Homicide Detective Fernandez and I got the call from him.”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t mention I just got the same phone call from Fernandez myself. Or that I’m hearing more footsteps from somewhere behind him. And so is Kula.
“What was that?” He turns around.
I shrug when he turns back.
“Anyway,” Dr. Grimes continues, “Detective Fernandez remembers me from his investigation of my wife’s death. He and I had several conversations back then, but he quickly realized I had nothing to do with it since I was on Moloka‘i at the time.”
I nod to keep him going. I have no idea what I am going to tell him. And I have no idea when Marie will pop out. Or once she does what she will do.
“Fernandez wants to talk with me in person,” Dr. Grimes continues. “But I want to talk with you first. Paris Police somehow found out I hired you to deliver that envelope to my stepdaughter and it apparently appears to them that I was actually trying to target her boyfriend. I wasn’t. But I want to know how they got from you back to me.”
I hear more footsteps. Kula’s tail starts wagging. The doctor turns around again and sees what the retriever and I see: Marie approaching through a doorframe directly behind him.
Instantly she starts in on him.