Mahu by Neil Plakcy

Author:Neil Plakcy [Plakcy, Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Gay, Mystery & Detective, Police Procedural, General Fiction
ISBN: 9781608202614
Google: Ov1NcbM8ku0C
Amazon: 1608202615
Publisher: MLR Press
Published: 2011-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

LUCKY LOU

The next morning I surfed for a half hour or so, just long enough to get my juices running, and was at my computer a few minutes before eight, trying to organize my thoughts. Akoni came in with a cup of coffee and I said, “You didn’t bring one for me?”

“Hey, you were here first. You could have had coffee for me.” He sat down in his chair and turned around to face my desk. I told him what I’d discovered at the Boardwalk, that Derek and Wayne couldn’t have been there. “That means Wayne was lying,” I said. “Derek said they went up to Mount Tantalus and parked.”

Akoni sat back in his chair. “What do you think really happened?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know that it matters. Derek and Wayne couldn’t stay at the Rod and Reel because they didn’t want Tommy to know about them. So they left. Tommy must have gone back to the club after his date with Treasure, where he met up with the cop, who was probably there to get a payoff for tipping Tommy about the bust earlier that night.”

“They argued?”

“Must have. Maybe Tommy didn’t want to pay, they got into a scuffle, the cop whacked him over the head.”

Akoni and I looked at each other for a while. In the background we heard the radio crackle with beat cops checking out license plates and driver records. The 6-1 officer was checking “Golf, Bravo, Golf, 343,” and the dispatcher told him it was a 1998 red Mazda Miata, and gave him the registration information. They checked the driver and made sure he had no outstanding warrants.

Finally, the phone rang and I answered. “Really,” I said. “Cool. Keep it in the back; we’ll be out to see you.”

“That was Lucky Lou.” He ran a pawnshop out by the Aloha Bowl, and he was responding to a list of Tommy Pang’s jewelry we’d circulated around the city. “He thinks he’s got Tommy’s watch.”

“Looks like we get to get out of here.” Akoni stood up. “You want some lunch? We could hit Zippy’s,” he said, and it was almost like having my partner back.

Lucky Lou’s pawn shop was located in an industrial neighborhood out by the Aloha Stadium just beyond Pearl Harbor, not far from the Boardwalk. We took the H1 Ewa, found ourselves a Zippy’s, and ordered our burgers.

“Who do you think pawned the watch?” I asked, when we’d given in our orders.

Akoni shrugged. “The murderer?”

“Good a guess as any,” I said, as the clerk brought our burgers out to the window. “No way we’re going to get prints, but maybe they’ve got video surveillance.”

Akoni laughed. “If the camera works.” We ate, Akoni telling me about how Mealoha had dragged him out to an outlet mall in Waipahu, about fifteen miles west of Honolulu.

Lucky Lou ran a tourist trap operation out front, catching visitors on their way to Pearl Harbor with counterfeit Guccis and Cartiers, and rows of shiny gold chains that would turn your neck green about a day after you got home from your vacation.

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