THE DAY AFTER the burial service, Uncle Kimo accompanied Soo Lin, Keneke’s girlfriend, to police headquarters. As they set up in a conference room, Koa took two more pain tablets and brought in a straight-back chair. He wanted to conduct this interview without the nagging distraction of pain running across his back and down his arm.
Although Soo Lin knew of the murder, Kimo hadn’t been able to bring himself to burden her with the hideous details of her lover’s death. Koa could see why. Her red eyes and dark circles told him she’d been crying and probably hadn’t slept. His heart went out to her, and he wondered if she would be able to get through the interview.
Against this background, neither Kimo nor Koa expected her insistence on knowing the details. “I want to know everything. I want to know exactly how he died.” Koa looked at Kimo, the official next of kin, whose permission he needed before revealing confidential police information to anyone outside the legal family.
“Soo Lin is the closest Keneke had to family. She’s entitled to know, but”—Kimo turned to the young woman—“Soo Lin, Keneke died a horrible death. Maybe it would be better for you, if you didn’t pursue it.”
Soo Lin bit her lip and fought to control her emotions.
“Do you know the story of ‘Ōhi‘a and Lehua?”
“Of course,” Koa responded. All Hawaiians knew of the love story of the handsome ‘Ōhi‘a and the beautiful Lehua. So much did ‘Ōhi‘a love Lehua that he rejected Pele’s advances, angering the old fire witch, who burned the couple to death in a fit of jealousy. Later, feeling guilty, Pele turned ‘Ōhi‘a into a tree and Lehua into its magnificent red blossoms, forever joining them in the ‘ōhi‘a lehua trees that grace the island forests.
“Keneke and I were like ‘Ōhi‘a and Lehua. That’s how we met. He called me Lehua and told the story of the ‘ōhi‘a lehua tree. Later he admitted it was the craziest thing he’d ever done, approaching me like that, but by then we were in love. I loved him very much and I have to know how he died.”
Koa told her about their discovery of Keneke’s body, neither emphasizing the grisly details nor omitting any significant facts. She listened in grim-faced silence, occasionally pressing her palms against the sides of her head. She recoiled when Koa told her of the missing left eye and the spear of pueo. Koa withheld information about the burial cave, the adze makers’ workshop, and the passage to the collapsed pu‘u on the side of Mauna Kea. When he’d finished, the three of them sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.
Virtually all police officers dreaded notification of next of kin, and Koa found the first interview with a grieving lover just as difficult. He had to ask hard questions and still tread gently to avoid aggravating a wound that hadn’t even started to heal. He watched Soo Lin’s face as she forced back her tears. Her large black eyes took on a determined look. Finally, he said, “If you are up to it, I must ask some questions.”
“I want to help bring the animal who did this to justice. Does Hawai‘i have the death penalty?”
“It should for crimes like this.”
“You’re right about that,” Kimo added.
Koa’s feelings about the death penalty were complex, but he agreed that life in prison was too good for anyone who sliced up a man and left him in a lava cave. “When did you last speak to Keneke?”
“Monday, January 19. We talked on the phone that evening before I left for my observing run in Cerro Tololo, Chile.”
“What did the two of you talk about?”
“I was excited and a little anxious about Cerro Tololo. Keneke encouraged my enthusiasm and tried to calm my anxieties.”
“And that’s the last time you spoke to him?”
“Yes. I tried to call many times from Cerro Tololo, but never reached him. I guess he was already dead, wasn’t he?” She looked down and again held her head in her hands, slowly shaking it. Just above a whisper, she said, “I was angry at him for not answering.”
“We know that he called the Alice Observatories and made plane reservations between 7:30 and 7:45 a.m. on Wednesday, January 21. We don’t know what he did for the rest of the day, but we’re pretty sure that he died that night.”
“I tried to call him that afternoon,” Soo Lin said, wringing her hands as she talked.
“I know. We have the answering machine tape.” Soo Lin turned to what had puzzled Koa. “I just don’t understand why he would go to Los Angeles.” Anger crept into her voice. “He knew I had left for Cerro Tololo, and that I lived outside San Francisco, not Los Angeles. He had no family or relatives in L.A.”
“That’s right,” Kimo added. “We’ve never had a single relative in the Los Angeles area.”
“Tell me about his relationship with the observatory people—Masters, Nelson, Harper, and the others,” Koa asked.
“He viewed Masters as a compulsive, driven genius, but Masters taught him a lot about adaptive optics. He respected Masters.”
“Did he ever talk about any tension or disputes with Masters?”
“No. Masters pushed him to perform, but no disputes.”
That aligned with what Masters had told him, albeit filtered through the director’s massive conceit. “How about Gunter?”
“That’s more complex. At first Keneke and Gunter got along well and spent a lot of time together. Keneke shared his archaeology theories with Gunter—”
Koa leaned forward at the mention of a link between these two worlds. “What archaeology theories?”
“Keneke believed that Pele had buried archaeological treasures beneath the overlapping lava flows in the Humu‘ula Saddle. He wanted to X-ray the whole saddle.” She was suddenly engaged and stopped wringing her hands.
“What?”
“An astounding idea, isn’t it? Isn’t it strange, he said, that we have powerful telescopes to search out the mysteries of the distant universe, but no machine to show us what’s right here under our feet?”
“He shared these theories with Gunter?”
“Yes. They spent a lot of time together out in the saddle. Then Gunter disappointed Keneke and their relationship cooled. Keneke’s attitude toward him changed.”
“What happened?” Koa asked.
“I don’t really know, but Keneke said he couldn’t trust Gunter. He said something about Gunter’s bitterness getting the better of him.”
“Bitterness?”
“Yes. Gunter’s failure to become director ate at him like battery acid. I think those were Keneke’s words.”
Keneke’s assessment of Gunter’s state of mind lined up with Koa’s own impressions, but did nothing more to answer the more important questions: Had Gunter’s resentment driven him to act, and if so, how?
“What about Harper?”
Soo Lin’s lip curled and her eyebrows dipped. She obviously shared Nālani’s distaste for Harper. “Keneke thought Alice should fire Charlie Harper.” The hand wringing started up again.
“That’s pretty strong. What did Keneke say?”
“That Harper was lazy. He did sloppy work. He treated his wife like a pet bird, and he couldn’t keep his hands off the female astronomers and techs. Keneke really disliked the man.”
Koa recalled Linda Harper’s note to Keneke. He pondered how he could ask the question delicately. “Did Keneke ever meet Linda Harper?”
“Sure. Keneke belonged to a historical society. Linda Harper showed up at one or two of their meetings. Keneke described her as the most timid human being he’d ever encountered.”
“So there was no …”—Koa struggled for the right word—“inappropriate relationship?”
Soo Lin stopped wringing her hands and looked him in the eye. “No … not a chance. Keneke felt sorry for her, but he didn’t much care for weak women.” There was a tiny twinkle in her eye for just an instant.
Koa nodded as he thought of his own interaction with Linda Harper at the astronomy party. For her, a wonderful, marvelous time might be nothing more than an intellectual conversation with a normal man. But Charlie Harper must have feared more had happened, given his reaction at the party. A paranoid’s jealousy could still motivate murder.
“Did Keneke have words with Charlie Harper?”
“I’m not sure about words, but Keneke wasn’t subtle in his dislike for Harper.”
“Any problems with the younger staff, or with anyone, for that matter?”
“No. Keneke had no enemies. I never heard him down on anybody, except Harper … and Gunter after their falling-out.”
Koa paused momentarily to check his notepad of questions. “Tell me about Keneke’s interest in Kaho‘olawe.”
Soo Lin smiled for the first time that morning. “You might say that Keneke inherited his interest. You know his grandfather violated Navy regulations by trespassing on Kaho‘olawe to dramatize his religious and environmental beliefs.”
“Yes, we know that Keneke’s grandfather was part of the Kaho‘olawe Nine.”
“Did you know that Keneke also planned an expedition to Kaho‘olawe?”
“No!” Koa couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “What attraction did Kaho‘olawe hold for him?”
“Keneke had this theory that ancient Tahitian toolmakers, searching for new sources of stone, brought adze-making technology to Hawai‘i, initially to Kaho‘olawe. He hoped to find links between stone quarries on Tahiti, Kaho‘olawe, and Mauna Kea. Tying it all together—the South Pacific, Kaho‘olawe, and Mauna Kea—that was his holy grail. That’s why he wanted to dig at Pu‘u Moiwi.”
The connection hit Koa like a tire iron. Keneke and Kaho‘olawe. Hook Hao’s son, Reggie, and Kaho‘olawe. Aikue ‘Ōpua and Kaho‘olawe. It couldn’t be a coincidence. He needed to talk to the Maui police and interview Reggie, especially since ‘Ōpua wouldn’t talk to him about Kaho‘olawe.
“Did he actually go exploring on Kaho‘olawe?”
“I urged him not to go. I was afraid of the bombs, but I don’t know whether he actually went.”
“When are you returning to California?” Koa asked as he prepared to end the interview.
“What are you going to do?”
“Kimo has graciously allowed me to stay in Keneke’s house in Honoka‘a, and I talked to my professors at UC. That’s where I did my graduate work in astronomy. They’ve arranged for me to work at Alice for a while.”
“I don’t like it,” Koa burst out, unable to contain his concern. “We don’t know who killed Keneke or why. You shouldn’t be walking in his footsteps until we’ve caught his killer.”
“There’s something I haven’t told you, Detective. When I got to Cerro Tololo and checked my e-mail, I had a message from Keneke. He said he was sending me something important that I should safeguard. Nothing more, just that I should safeguard what he was sending. Then when I got back from Cerro Tololo, I found a package from Keneke, mailed on January 19. It contained data, digital pictures made with the Alice telescopes, but no note or other explanation. I think the data has something to do with Keneke’s death, and I’m going to find out how. I owe him that.”
This woman was one revelation after another. “Tell me about the data.”
“It’s detailed analyses of images of star clusters. By itself, the data is unremarkable, except that there is a duplicate of each image—well, almost a duplicate. There are slight differences in each pair of images that I don’t yet understand. I need to get up to the Alice Observatories to replicate Keneke’s observations.”
Koa saw her jaw harden and a look of determination fill her bright eyes. He could tell that he wouldn’t be able to dissuade her, and he had no legal basis to stop her. He settled for what he could do.
“You should keep in touch with me. Let me know if anything, anything at all, makes you feel threatened. And come by my office in the morning. We’ll give you an emergency beacon. The police communications center will monitor the frequency twenty-four hours a day. Once you activate it, we’ll be able to locate you and hear whatever happens around you. Okay?”
“Thanks, Koa.” She rose from her seat. “I’m tougher than you think.”
After she left, Koa stretched out on the conference room floor to rest his neck, replaying parts of the interview and shuffling the deck of suspects. Charlie Harper, the pervert, and Gunter Nelson, the resentful loser, remained strong suspects, although he still needed to find out what had happened between Gunter and Keneke. He made a mental note to see what Detective Piki had learned from the telephone records of the observatory people.
But it was the Kaho‘olawe connection that most intrigued him. Reggie Hao, Aikue ‘Ōpua, some felon who had taken the Fifth, the prince, and now Keneke were all connected to an illegal hunt for artifacts on an abandoned Navy bombing range. One of them was now in a coma and another dead. Contacting the Maui police moved to the top of his agenda.