A Hole in One Murder Read online

  “Most of those competitions bring their own things, and when they don’t, we have something perfectly useful to handle large crowds,” Melanie explained. She stood back to allow him to hit to the next green. He got his ball to the edge of the apron, a nice shot. When she hit, she landed only a few feet from him.

  While the cabinet minister and the agent walked to their balls on the green, Melanie went along with Goro, several paces back. Even though there was little money in the budget for sports equipment—they were still paying for the new public pool that had been put in only a couple of years before—she knew where money could be found for replacing old equipment. Sports were near and dear to her heart, and knew extracurricular activities in high school were critical for keeping many kids in school and motivated. She asked about equipment for some of the smaller fringe sports, and got a few figures. Allowing her mind to tick through calculations, and concocting the plan to make a few phone calls to island coaches, she kept playing her game.

  By the time the foursome was done with their play, cabinet minister Takeda had a four stroke lead over the Secret Service agent, who had beaten Goro Oguchi by half a dozen strokes, one stroke ahead of Melanie.

  “Well, sorry I wasn’t better competition for you, Minister Takeda,” she said with a quick head nod while they gave a short press conference back in the clubhouse. “I’ll have to practice my putting before the next time you come back to our island. I certainly hope to play with you again.”

  She was glad to be done with the day, and knew her little speech would be good enough, something practical when it came to polite politics. All she had to do was smile and answer a few questions before she could get home again to start her weekend off from everything else.

  “Ah, yes, to play again,” he said. “I know Mister Oguchi and I have time tomorrow, if you do? We’d like to offer another chance for you to even the score with us.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “We have tee time at seven in the morning, Mayor Kato,” the course manager said from just off the low dais where the group was seated for the press conference.

  “You seem to have no way out,” Takeda said, smiling as though he’d already won the match.

  She looked directly back at him. “Yes, I think I’d like to play again, even if it’s so soon.”

  Chapter Two

  “You mind if we make a stop before you take me home?” Melanie asked Cassandra as they drove along the highway.

  “To a bar?”

  “It’s a consideration but maybe tomorrow. There’s a surf shop on the other side of Lahaina I want to look at. It closed a while back and the place is still for sale.”

  “Melanie, you don’t need another hobby. You work full-time as a surgeon at the hospital, have two small children, own a restaurant, operate a research lab, and are county mayor. You don’t already feel fulfilled in life?” Cassandra asked.

  “It isn’t that. I just hate to see something closed and looking in a shambles right on the highway that tourists use. I also hate the idea that someone might turn it into a card and trinket shop. The last thing Maui needs is another one of those.”

  “As if Maui needs another surf shop?”

  “I was thinking of sporting goods.” Melanie pointed to the entrance to the gravel parking lot of the shuttered business for Cassandra to pull in. The old sign of Gonzo’s Surf Shop had disappeared from the front of the shop. “Quality outdoor stuff but at reasonable prices that locals could afford. Maybe have a coffee shop or little café on one side, turn it into a meeting place for outdoor enthusiasts. A decent place for kids to hang out on weekends.”

  Cassandra parked. “You don’t already have enough money? You have that trust fund from your father you’ve barely tapped into, along with what you make from his old businesses. Trinh, also. If I had that much money, I’d go nuts trying to spend it all,” Cassandra said, closing the door to the Escalade.

  “Maybe it has more to do with island tradition, and making sure local people have places to go and hang out. Tourists are great, but somewhere along the way, we have to be sure Maui feels like home to those of us who live here.”

  They took a walk around the outside of the shop. Brambles and low trees were in back that stretched down to the beach, and no other shops or houses were nearby. It seemed lonely sitting there with no other cars or customers.

  Melanie cupped her hands to peek in the front window. “As far as money from the trust fund and Dad’s businesses, Josh and I are living on our job earnings. The rest goes to the kids.”

  “Not to mention about half a dozen civil projects around the island. Road repairs around West Maui, a new waste treatment plant in central Maui, and expansion of the museum and new security systems being installed in all county buildings. All of it being funded by Maui’s secret benefactor, also known as Melanie Kato.”

  “I’m sure Dad would’ve approved of me using his hard-earned money for those things,” Melanie said.

  They went around to the back of the small building. Flipping over a long piece of plywood sent several cockroaches scurrying for cover. It was the weathered sign for Gonzo’s old store. Going to the back door, they discovered it had been kicked in, the doorknob lying on the back lanai, the doorframe splintered. Inside, the old racks now empty had been tipped over, cabinet doors hung from broken hinges, and walls had been tagged with graffiti.

  “The place is kind of a mess, Melanie.” Cassandra already had her hand behind her back, resting on the pistol in her holster.

  “This is all new damage. I was here just a few days ago and the doors were secure, and peeking in the windows, everything seemed okay.” Melanie got out her phone. “I need to call this in.”

  Instead of calling the police dispatch, Melanie used her mayor’s privilege to call a police detective directly. While Cassandra went through the shop clearing potential traps and hiding places, Melanie made her call.

  “Detective Nakatani, are you busy?”

  “I’m always busy, Mayor Kato, at least until you hire a few more officers and investigators. What’s up?”

  “Remember Gonzo’s from a few months ago? Well, I’m there right now. It seems the place has been broken into in the last few days and someone’s made a mess.”

  “It’s closed, right? Pretty low priority to the police to investigate a break-in of a place that’s not even in business. Are people living inside?”

  “Not that I can tell, but I don’t want that to start. It does have a faint reek to it, though, like it’s been partied in recently.”

  “I don’t have the resources to bust kids smoking pot. You know that, Mayor. And even if things got out of hand and the place burned down, that piece of real estate might actually go up in value.”

  “I know right now it’s an eye sore, but it’s something of a Maui landmark. It’s been here ever since I can remember. I’d hate to lose that cozy Maui feel just so some pre-fab condo thing could be built.”

  “Well, buy it. It reverted to the county a few months ago when the supposed owner was sent to prison, by you, in fact. Buy it, fill it with surfboards, and call it Melanie’s Surf Shack.”

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking. Any idea if there’s a conflict of interest, if the mayor buys county property that came to county ownership because of her doing?”

  “I bet there would be all kinds of problems with that, but you’d have to check with the county attorneys. And your own. But speaking of Gonzo’s, that Ozzie character is out of lockup.”

  Melanie rubbed the tic in her eye with a knuckle. “Already?”

  “Did three months instead of three years. Out because of over-crowding and good behavior.”

  “Or manipulative behavior. He’s here on Maui?”

  “He’s supposed to be. His PO is here and Ozzie’s supposed to see her once a week.”

  “Has he been in to see her yet?” she asked.

  “Who knows? They usually show up the first few times, act real contrite, talk big about looking for
jobs, and eventually wander off. As long as they’re not causing trouble, nobody cares if they leave the island.”

  “Good riddance, I say.” After getting an assurance that either Nakatani or an officer would swing by and take a look at the vandalism at the old surf shop, Melanie called one of the county attorneys that came to weekly council meetings.

  “Marty, Melanie Kato. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “I live in a condo, Melanie. There’s not much to interrupt. Not like I’m out mowing the lawn. Nice press conference at the clubhouse. You have a hook, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I know. Turn the face of the club head a little to the outside and it should go away. Easier said than done. What I wanted to ask you is a legal question.”

  “Still can’t fix your friend’s speeding tickets. Just tell her to pay the fine.”

  “No, a little more complicated than that. You know that old surf shop most recently named Gonzo’s?” She explained what she wanted to do, to buy the place from the county and remodel it using her own money, and wondered if there were any legal constraints against it since she was mayor.

  “I’d have to look into it. When do you need to know by?”

  She explained how the place had been broken into and vandalized. “Would it be okay if I had the doors and windows boarded up? At my expense?”

  “At your expense as a private citizen? No. As Mayor, also no, unless it went through proper channels, which would be very time consuming.”

  “I’d hate to have to evict homeless people who moved in, or watch as it burned down.”

  “Unless you can think of a way to expedite it. That would require a police report indicating criminal activity had occurred at that location, and that it was a danger to the public unless it was secured. Then you’d have to find the funds, which are in short supply right now.”

  “I think I know where the money could come from,” she said, concocting a plan.

  “Melanie, I’m firmly convinced you have some secret fund or a sugar daddy nobody else knows about. Someday, you’ll have to tell me where this money comes from.”

  “Ha! And have you dip into it to hire another paralegal for your office? But is there anything else I’d need to do to make it happen?”

  “Once you get an official report from the police, you’d have to hold a council meeting to approve your proposal, and then bring the motion to a vote. If you want to do that today, you’d have to call an emergency session.”

  “How many do I need to hold a vote? This is Saturday afternoon. People have better things to do than come to an emergency council meeting over what they would consider nothing.”

  “As long as you had at least three so there could be a majority.”

  She thanked him for his time and made another call.

  “Zito, Melanie.” Duane Esposito was an old Air Force buddy from twenty years before, who now managed the island’s largest hardware store. “I have some business for your hardware store and a half-day job for four workers. How quickly can you get a crew together for me?”

  “Middle of the week, I guess. What’s the job?”

  “You know Gonzo’s old place here in West Maui? It’s being vandalized and I need it boarded up. But I’d like it done today.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  “People have been partying inside and I’d hate to see the place burn down.”

  “And straight-laced Mayor Melanie will have none of that on her island as long as she’s mayor? You know they’ll just smoke pot somewhere else, right?”

  “Wasn’t born yesterday, Zito. Last week maybe, but not yesterday. Can you find somebody?”

  “You want to buy that place, huh?” he asked.

  “That’s the idea, but nobody can know. If you find the crew, I can pay double minimum wage and give a bonus if they’re done by sundown today. And I’ll pay retail for whatever hardware they need.”

  Taking another lap around the outside, she told him how many doors and windows needed to be boarded up and let him figure out what was needed.

  Cassandra was looking bored and said something about being hungry when Melanie made another call.

  “Detective Nakatani, it’s your favorite high-maintenance mayor. Have a few minutes?”

  “All mayors are high-maintenance. That’s the working definition of mayor, and the primary job qualification. Is this about Gonzo’s place again?”

  She explained what she learned from the county attorney and how she already had a crew lined up to do the work.

  “And now you need me to come by, look around at the mess, and fill out a report?” he asked.

  “That’s the idea.”

  “But Martinson said you need to conduct a session with at least three council members to hold a vote.”

  “I’m one, Trinh is a second. She’s doing nothing else better today. That leaves me finding one more. I don’t even need to hold the meeting in town.”

  “Why is this so important to you, Mayor?”

  “Sentimental reasons. When my mom first moved here, this is where she came to take surf lessons. She bought her first board here, and bought me my first board here. I’ve bought a lot of stuff in this place over the years. I’d hate to see it turn into just another concrete eyesore with no soul to it.”

  After prying an agreement from him that he’d be there in an hour to fill out the necessary reports, she gave Cassandra a thumbs-up.

  Chapter Three

  “Now we have time for lunch,” Melanie said. “There’s a new diner in Lahaina we can go to.”

  “I was hoping we could go to your Island Breeze Café,” Cassandra said.

  “Oh, please. Josh wants to go there every weekend. There’s only so much I can do with a vegetarian menu that appeals to the tourists staying at the resort, or to island residents willing to overpay for stuff they can make at home. Honestly, I think it’s the seating hostess he insisted on hiring a while back.”

  “Lahaina diner it is, then.”

  While they sat waiting for their meals, Melanie called home to check on the kids. Thérèse and Dottie were still out and the baby had fed twice, sleeping in between each meal. She next called Trinh, who reluctantly agreed to meet them at Gonzo’s in an hour.

  “This is your nuttiest caper yet as mayor, Mel,” Trinh said.

  “Bear with me on this. I can make it work. Just be there in about an hour.”

  “You know, I think this is the longest time we’ve ever spent with each other, Melanie,” Cassandra said, once Melanie was off the phone.

  “And yet, nobody knows more about me and my family than you, Cassie. Pretty boring stuff, huh?”

  “You have your moments. But that’s the life of a Secret Service agent. Ninety-nine moments of boredom punctuated with one moment of sheer terror.”

  “Like I always say, I don’t need protection. If you ever want something more interesting, I wouldn’t mind at all if you went to DC.”

  “And leave a coosh job on Maui? Forget it.” Their meals came, Melanie getting a salad, Cassandra digging into a BLT. “What about tomorrow? Same arrangement with the golf match?”

  “Do you honestly think we need the other two agents?” Melanie asked.

  “Probably not, but they have nothing else to do right now. Nobody needing protection is visiting Honolulu any time soon. Otherwise, the younger one, the golfer, is just out of training, and still has a few practical lessons to learn. Mostly on how to be diplomatic and let the protectee win at golf.”

  “No paper hangers to chase? Are counterfeiters still called that?”

  Cassandra chuckled. “And all federal agents are called G-Men. You really need to lay off the old movies, Melanie.”

  “Except for cheating at golf, both Minister Takeda and that Oguchi guy seemed benign enough. There wasn’t much of a media reception or news conference. But there’s just something about their names that seems so familiar.”

  “Takeda and Oguchi? Are those common names in Japan?”

  Melani
e nodded. “Very. Like Brown and Anderson in America. Oguchi is an old samurai family name, later becoming yakuza crime families. Many of those names that start with an ‘O’ are samurai and yakuza. Otani, Ogawa, Okada, Otsuka. Just like Fuji. Fujiyama, Fujikawa, Fujimoto. Those are the families of old Japan, ancient names that have come forward to today. But it doesn’t mean everyone you meet with a name like that is necessarily yakuza.”

  “What about Kato?”

  “Peasants, in the old days. One of the most common of all Japanese names. There are Katos all over the world. My grandfather used to tell a joke, that there were so many Katos in Japan, there wasn’t enough space for them all and some had to leave. That’s supposedly why my great-grandparents came to America. According to him, anyway.”

  “What’s the real story?” Cassandra asked.

  “They came before the war as ballast class in a ship not much different than those old slave ships from hundreds of years ago. Crowded, little food or clean water, people got sick, died, jumped overboard halfway across because they couldn’t take the turbulent seas. But they persevered. When they got to LA, they started little cottage businesses. She was a seamstress and he had a nursery and sold flowers. Eventually, my grandparents inherited the business and opened five flower stores altogether in LA. They’re still there, owned by my cousins now.”

  “You mean Kato’s Flowers on Wilshire? I remember seeing that place a few years ago when I was working out of the LA office. That place is big. I might even have bought a few things there.”

  “That location was their first shop. I have an old snapshot of them standing in front of it when they first opened. Only a few years later, they were tossed into an internment camp. After the war, they had to start all over again, building a nursery business from scratch.”

  “Ah. That answers a few questions. You’re following in their footsteps by opening these small businesses. First, you became a doctor. Then you opened the research lab at the hospital. Then buying your mother’s old restaurant. Now, you want to open a sporting goods store. What’s interesting is that it all comes from your mother, one way or another. She was a doctor, had breast cancer which is what your lab studies, you own her restaurant, and now you want to own the place where she first learned to surf.”