JoAnn Bassett - Islands of Aloha 07 - Moloka'i Lullaby (17 page)

CHAPTER 23

I skidded to a stop at the open door like a cartoon character, eyes bulging and arms windmilling. Malama was on the sofa, sobbing; head down, her hands covering her face. Tika was seated next to her with a sturdy arm around Malama’s shoulders.

Whatever had transpired in the past few moments wasn’t about snitching. It seemed a lot worse. It dawned on me that, in an act of compassion, the police officer must’ve asked Tika to accompany him in an attempt to soften the blow of whatever it was he’d been sent there to say. The male cop was standing just inside the door, and his face looked like he’d rather be scraping road-kill from the middle of the highway than delivering bad news to a nice lady up in Maunaloa.

I explained to him who I was, and how I knew Malama. Tika concurred that I’d been a guest there that morning.

“
Aloha
, again, Pali,” she said in a whispery voice. “Why don’t we go outside for a minute?”

We went out front, leaving the officer inside with Malama. As we passed by, he shot me a look that said “hurry back.” I’m sure he was praying for his radio to go off so he’d have an excuse to get out of there, but so far, his shoulder mic stayed silent.

“What happened?” I said.

“They found Malama’s boy, Leonard,” she said. “You know, the one who goes by Lono.” The way she said it, I was pretty sure there was more, and what she was about to tell me wouldn’t have a happy ending.

She went on. “Unfortunately, he’s dead.”

Alarms went off in my head. “Where’d they find him?”

“Down where he worked; at a house on Papohaku Beach. It seems he took his own life sometime in the night.” Her soft, soothing voice made the grisly news seem somehow easier to bear.

A thousand questions crowded my mind, but none seemed appropriate except one. “Is there anything I can do?” I said.

“
Mahalo,
but no.” She sounded hesitant.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, Malama isn’t taking it well. She’s hoping maybe they’ve made a mistake.” Tika sighed and went on, “The policeman says Leonard’s body was taken to Kaunakakai, and if she wants to go down there to confirm the identity before the autopsy, that’s her right. But I don’t think she’s strong enough to do it. I’d go for her, but my husband’s had a stroke and I can’t leave him alone for such a long time.”

“I’ll do it for her,” I said.

“Are you sure? It’s a lot to ask, but I know she won’t be able to accept it until she’s gotten confirmation.”

We went inside, and Tika whispered to the police officer. He nodded and the two of them went outside. I sat down on the sofa next to Malama. By now, she’d folded her hands in her lap, revealing a tear-streaked face.

“I am so sorry,” I said.

“It looks like maybe the prayer chain worked,” she said. She choked out a sob. “They’re telling me they found my boy.”

Tika came back to the doorway and waved me over. “Officer Peala would like a word with you out here.”

Outside, the police officer was leaning against his police car, staring at the soft curve of the hills beyond. His blue and white cruiser said “Maui Police” on the side, and I couldn’t help but wonder how the locals felt about always being under the thumb of their bigger, more prosperous neighbor island.

“You ever meet Lono?” he said.

“Yes. He was the caretaker at George Bustamante’s. I’m the wedding planner who was hired to do a wedding there, and Malama and I were working on it together. The wedding got cancelled, so I’m just waiting to catch a flight out of here. Like I told Tika, I’d be willing to confirm Lono’s identity for Malama.”

“Ah,” he said. “When’s your flight?”

“Not until after two this afternoon.”

“So, you think you’ve got the stomach to ID a dead body?” he said. He wore mirrored sunglasses, which made it hard to tell if his gruff comment was the result of him overcompensating for his own sorrow over the suicide of a guy he probably knew well, or was simply an attempt to appear macho.

“Yeah, I can do it. I’m a former Homeland Security agent with a degree in Criminology from UH, so not much rattles me. And, I knew Lono pretty well.” It dawned on me I hadn’t known Lono well enough to know his last name, but I wasn’t about to blow my credentials by mentioning that.

He nodded. “Okay. Tika tells me you’re over here from Maui. You know where the hospital is in Kaunakakai?”

“No, but I’m sure I can find it.”

I started to go back in the house, but then I turned to the cop and said, “Do they know the cause of death?”

“Yeah, it was asphyxiation. Seems he hung himself.”

I’d seen autopsy photos of hanging victims, so I sent up a prayer of my own to thank the Almighty for making my flight to Honolulu oversold that morning. No parent should witness their child’s body after a death like that.

***

As I drove down the highway to Kaunakakai, the turn-off to Papohaku Beach came in sight and I slowed. I wouldn’t be coming back this way anytime soon, and I still hadn’t retrieved my things from the maid’s quarters. Even more pressing, before I left Moloka’i I’d like to put to rest at least a few of the dozens of questions I had stacked along the walls of my brain.

I turned onto the road to George’s beach house. The two police cars and the unmarked car were still there, but the medical van had left. Seems Lono’s poor decision was tying up a good portion of the vehicular resources of Moloka’i’s finest for the day.

“I’m back,” I said to the same female officer I’d spoken with earlier. “I know what happened here, and I’m on my way to ID the body for the mother’s peace of mind. But, before I go, I really need to get in there and get my stuff.”

“Sorry, we’ve still got detectives working in there,” she said. “They don’t want anyone in or out.”

I wondered if George was there, and if so, if he’d be willing to bring me my bag. I called the house. He answered on the fourth ring.

“I told you; I have no comment,” he said by way of greeting.

“George, it’s me—Pali Moon.”

“Oh, I saw the local number and figured it was some media ghoul,” he said. “I’ve been getting calls all morning.”

“I’m out by your entrance, but the police won’t let me come in.” I glanced over at the cop and saw she was trying awfully hard to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping.

“I was very sorry to hear about Lono,” I said. “It’s a terrible loss.”

“And totally unnecessary,” he said.

“I hate to impose at a time like this—”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t,” he snapped.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I’m leaving and I need to get my overnight bag from the maid’s quarters. Would you mind getting it for me? They won’t let me come in.”

“I guess no good deed goes unpunished,” he said.

I wasn’t sure if that was a “yes” or a “no,” so I waited for clarification.

Finally, he spoke again. “I’ll bring it around front. I’ll leave it a few feet from the entrance. You can tell the lady constable to come in and fetch it for you.”

“
Mahalo
, George. And, again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“My biggest loss is to my privacy!” he said.

But I heard the crack in his voice.

***

I stood around until my suitcase arrived, and once I had it in hand, I got in the car and called Hatch. He answered on the first ring.

“Everything all right?” he said.

“I wish. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.” As soon as it was out of my mouth I knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“An accident? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have said ‘accident.’ Actually, it wasn’t an accident at all. It seems Malama’s son has committed suicide.”

“What?” he said. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, but it gets worse. He hung himself, and his mother isn’t taking it well. She wants someone to ID the body. I guess she holding out hope there’s been some kind of mistake. I said I’d do it.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I mean, that’s pretty tough duty.”

“I know. But I ran into him in town yesterday, and I can’t get it out of my mind that I should’ve seen how bad off he was. I can’t help thinking that if maybe I’d I said something, or done something differently. I don’t know; I feel just awful.”

“Babe, what you’re feeling is understandable, but I seriously doubt you could’ve made any difference. Are you still going to be able to come back this afternoon? I hate not being there when you’re going through stuff like this.”

“I’m booked on the two-ten. I’m on my way to the hospital to do the ID, and then I should have plenty of time to make the plane.”

“Call me when you’re done,” he said.

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. Good luck, and see you soon.”

***

The hospital on Moloka’i sits atop a small hill on the east side of Kaunakakai. It’s a low, single-story structure that resembles the mid-century elementary school I attended on Maui.  

I parked and went into a door marked, “Emergency.” The small waiting room was empty. A nurse sat behind a glassed-in partition at the back of the room. I crossed the room and tapped on the glass and she slid the window open.

“
Aloha
, can I help you?” she said. Her eyes scoped me from head to toe as if she was trying to guess my emergency, and she frowned when she came up short.

“I’m looking for the morgue,” I said.

She narrowed her eyes, and the look on her face told me she wasn’t going to be the least bit happy if it turned out I’d be requiring psychiatric care.

“You need the morgue?”

“Yes, the son of a friend of mine was brought here this morning. I offered to be the family’s representative to ID his body.”

“Ah, are you referring to Leonard A’amakualenalena?” she said.

No wonder I’d never heard anyone use Malama and Lono’s last name.

“Yes.”

“We don’t actually have a morgue,” she said. “We’ve put him in one of our patient rooms until the medical examiner can get here from O’ahu. We’ve turned the A/C way up in there. Please take a seat while I call the doctor.”

I waited almost twenty minutes for the doctor to arrive. She was a small-statured Asian woman of about forty. She had a kind face, and a perfectly-cut bob of coal-black hair.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Are you
‘ohana
?”

I explained the situation, and she led me down a wide hallway with doors on either side. I couldn’t help but note the vast difference between this small hospital and Queen’s Medical Center. It was as if I’d traveled back in time fifty years. But everything was clean and freshly painted, and there were vases of fresh tropical flowers in small niches along the hallway.

She opened the door to a room at the end of the hall, and gestured for me to go in before her. The overhead lights were off, and the shades had been drawn. The room was chilly to the point of feeling downright cold. She crossed the room and flipped the switch on a fluorescent lamp over the bed. The light flickered a few times before staying on.

Lono had been placed on a bed covered with thick plastic. A white cotton sheet had been draped over him. When she pulled back the sheet, I saw they’d tucked a folded white towel beneath his chin, probably to conceal the trauma to his neck. His mouth and eyes were closed. I’d steeled myself to witness something worthy of nightmares, like a black protruding tongue or bulging bloodshot eyes, but the reality was much less gruesome. His color was bad and his face swollen, but other than that, he looked like he was sleeping.

“We understand the mother wouldn’t allow an autopsy until she’d been provided with a positive ID,” said the doctor. “So, this is only for her sake. Mr. A’amakualenalena is well-known on the island, but we like to honor the wishes of the
‘ohana
as much as possible.”

“That’s Lono,” I said.

“You’re positively identifying this man as Leonard A’amakualenalena?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“
Mahalo
for coming in. Would you like a few moments alone with him?”

I nodded, and she retreated. She stood by the doorway, ostensibly checking cell phone messages.

I leaned in toward Lono’s lifeless face.

“You’ve broken your mother’s heart, you know,” I said in a whisper. “No matter what you did: fooling around with Amanda, taking Richard’s cash, even pushing him in the pool. None of any of that is half as bad as what you’ve done to your momma.”

“Is everything okay?” said the doctor. She’d stopped fingering her phone and was now eying me somewhat suspiciously.

“Yes, I’m ready to go now.
Mahalo
.”

I walked outside to a brilliant blue sky and the sparkling azure water of Kaunakakai Harbor below. But no matter how beautiful the setting, nothing could lift the melancholy I felt at witnessing a life cut short by its own hand.