Terri's Jack Lord Connection
Terri's Jack Lord Connection
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The Moon’s Beloved, Purest Rose of Waikiki By Isabeau Saberhagen © 10-3-2006 Chapter Five Two hours later McGarrett found a very sorry excuse for his right-hand man stumbling into his office. McGarrett watched as Danny collapsed into the couch and curled up in a near fetal position. “Oh Danno, you poor son of a bitch.” Danny emitted a grunt/groan and pulled his legs a little closer to his chest. McGarrett pressed the intercom and gave Jenny direct orders not let anyone in for a while. He then sat down on the floor in front of Danny and placed a hand on his arm. “Danno I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we do have a case to solve and I know they didn’t just bash their ex-husband and men in general.” Danny sighed and nodded. He uncurled and sat up, McGarrett stayed in front of him with his hand still on his arm. “They weren’t unhappy to hear what had become of him. They also said that they were his only relations. And…” “And what Danno?” “You’re going to have back up a bit you’re starting to creep me out.” “Oh,” he got up and sat down in his chair. “Better?” “Much. They said that they had a hard time believing that Menndermen killed him. He may have wandering eyes but he was head over heels in love with Greenwich.” McGarrett snorted. “Yea well, Jane told me Menndermen was pushing for a divorce since day one of the marriage. She was surprised it lasted as long as it did.” McGarrett leaned back in his chair with an unreadable expression. “Steve I don’t really see a motive here, Barry had just gotten everything he wanted, and he has no place in the will.” “I see that. He was almost the perfect suspect. A middle aged lawyer, bi sexual, jealous and obsessive.” “But Steve he had no connection to Alika or Moor.” “He did. He was one of a few lawyers starting to dig up their own dirt on Alika trying to put him away. He was quoted on several occasions to have said Hawaii would be a better place when Alika was in his grave. And he was recently rejected by Moor” Danny leaned back in the couch. “Almost perfect.” “But not quite. Barry has no motive to kill Henry.” “So we’re back to square one.” McGarrett got out of his chair and leaned on the sash of the window. “I had Che and his crew go over every grain of sand around Greenwich’s body. They didn’t find anything that came definitively from any third party. Small blood spatters were found in Greenwich’s home but nothing else. Not even signs of forced entry, perp probably used Barry’s key.” “Wait,” Danny leaned forward, “They would have to get into Barry’s house or car to get the keys.” “We checked those to, nothing. Just blood in the car and some large footprints outside his house.” “Same as the ones at the other crime scenes?” “Exactly.” McGarrett braced himself against the sash and hung his head. The shame and guilt was eating him alive. It infuriated him that after nearly a month and a half after Alika was reported missing they didn’t even have a concrete suspect. Three murders and he didn’t have a hair of evidence. He got the feeling the real killer didn’t really want Barry to take the blame. They were just making some point. Or this killing was directed at the victims, he wasn’t sure. Nothing about this person made sense. What were they trying to do? Help him? Destroy him? Love him, hate him? Was it even about him? Did they have something against the victims? Was it just a sick game? If so, why weren’t they gloating? McGarrett had already tried using a press conference to flush them out. He almost thought it worked when he heard of the latest murder. He wanted to try again, but wasn’t sure it would work. Would the killer get suspicious, or would he just cause the death of another innocent? ‘I believe that the common connection between these two, the reason the same killer targeted these completely different men, is you. First your worst and most powerful enemy on the islands, then the young model who on several occasions boasted that he was a far more handsome than you. This person lashes out at anyone who has hurt or humiliated you in any way’ The doctor’s words came ringing back. But what was the connection here? Kono and Chin had done some questioning at Greenwich’s business and had found a rumor that he was embezzling from it some pretty damning evidence that he was evading income taxes too. Was that it? Was he killed because of his white-collar crimes? That didn’t make any sense at all and yet in some twisted way did. Here was a man that was McGarrett’s exact polar opposite. A self-absorbed businessman that stole form his own self made company and dodged taxes. He married and divorced three women and was known throughout the island as a ladies man and had an affair with his lawyer Barry. That had to be it, if it was the same person despite the much more violent methods; that had to be it. McGarrett’s prophecy was coming true. The murderer was getting more cold blooded and had to be taken off the streets. But how could they catch them if they didn’t respond to flattery? Then something came to him, something he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do. He shuddered and headed over to his desk and removed the yellow notepad he usually took notes on and a pencil. He sat down his chair and braced the pad against his knee. A huge sawing sound startled him a bit. He looked over and saw Danny still in the couch fast asleep with his head resting against the wall. McGarrett smiled warmly and shook his head. Danny snored again shifted a bit. “Danno; lay on your side.” Without hesitation, Danny snuggled down into the leather and the snoring ceased. McGarrett sighed; they spent too much time together if he knew Danny would wake the dead if he wasn’t on his side after he fell asleep. He turned back to the pad and started writing. ***** Danny woke up early the next morning a little cramped. He stretched a bit and registered a guitar playing. He lifted his head and saw McGarrett plucking the strings and staring hard at a paper on his desk. He looked to have been up all night. His eyes were dull and had huge dark circles around them, and he seemed to have aged ten years in one night. He assumed McGarrett had taken the guitar out to help him think until he picked up a tune on it that sounded like something you heard underground clubs. Danny was about to ask him were he heard that tune when McGarrett started to sing.
McGarrett paused and scribbled something down on the pad. “Steve?” McGarrett looked over at him. “Did you spend all night writing that?” “With good reason Danno.” “Giving up police work to pursue a career in the music business?” McGarrett put down the pencil and stared at him. “Get some coffee, get some food, then come back here and I’ll explain everything.” “Okay,” Danny got up and dragged his sore self to the door. “But please put the guitar away.” ***** Lucia sat on the prow of a small pleasure boat headed for Maui on Friday afternoon. McGarrett was at the helm making a few adjustments before locking the rudder and letting her sail straight for a few hours. He couldn’t stop looking at Lucia as she leaned against the railing and stared out ahead. Her expression was blank as she surveyed the waters. He wondered what she was thinking of. Where old childhood memories surfacing? Or maybe they were of old friends. Were they happy or sad? It tortured him to think that he loved this woman yet knew almost nothing about her. Why wouldn’t she open up to him? There was huge 12 year gap in her life that she wouldn’t discuss; from the time she turned 11 to her 23rd birthday. Was that what she was thinking so hard about? Her watched her sigh heavily and turn away from the water. Her eyes were downcast and she was sort of half hugging herself. McGarrett could stand it no longer. He locked the helm and went over to her. “Hey.” Lucia looked up and saw Steve coming to embrace her. For a moment she turned away for his open arms and back out to sea. “Lucia?” She looked back. “What’s wrong?” Lucia’s face was streaked with tears; she threw herself in his arms. Steve held her as tight as he possibly could and stroked her hair. He could feel her shaking sobs as he tried to give her some comfort. Once in awhile he would catch what sounded like a name, Shinju. Hours later after they had diner off the shores of Maui McGarrett asked why she had been crying. Lucia sat staring at her wine glass for a minute then got up and headed back to the deck. McGarrett assumed she wanted to be alone until she motioned for him to follow. She went back to prow, threw her glass into the water and began to sing in Japanese.
It was slow haunting song that sent shivers down his spine. Lucia held notes for several seconds drawing them out and reverberating them. It was a song she sung only for the dead. Later on Lucia told him why she sung it. It was written in one of the oldest form of Japanese. The one whom had taught it to her was her childhood friend Shinju. Shinju was an immigrant from Kyoto along with her Aunt and Uncle. Lucia and Shinju knew each other from preschool and were joined at the hip. That is until a weeks after Shinju’s eleventh birthday. “She and I were just walking home after school. We walked that street a thousand times before. It was always safe. I was eager to get home; mother was making some Italian wedding soup for us for an early dinner before we went to a baseball game with dad. She didn’t like us eating the hot dogs at the stadium. Shinju hadn’t quite mastered spoons, even after living here for nine years. I was walking a little ahead of her, and I could hear her skipping. Then I heard a car engine revving up. The wheels screeched and there was a bang and…and a clash. And then I heard the scream. Shinju was lying pinned underneath the car. She was crying and blood was coming out of her mouth. I ran over to her and held her head. I kept telling it would be okay, but she just cried and whispered ‘Kaa-san…Tou-san’. I felt someone grab my shoulder. They tried to pull me away but I screamed at them. They kept trying, I remember saying ‘I can’t leave her, I can’t leave her!’ Then I saw her eyes close.” Lucia paused and rubbed away some tears. “I remember Shinju’s memorial. Her parents came over from Kyoto. When we were at her house, I saw her mother staring at me and whispering to her aunt. I thought that she thought I killed her daughter. I couldn’t look at her. When she came up to me, I thought she was going to slap me but she kneeled down in front of me and took my hands. She said that Shinju’s aunt had told her that Shinju had taught me some Japanese. She said she was happy because she could tell me how she really felt. She said that English didn’t have the right words. She looked into my eyes and told me how thankful she was that I stayed with Shinju when she died. She was happy that her daughter’s greatest friend was with her in that most important moment, and that I would have a special place in the hearts of her, her husband, and her sister and her husband for their whole lives. “I hugged her and said how sorry I was. She told me not to be sorry.” “I couldn’t bring myself to tell her why Shinju had died. There was a crazy mom in our neighborhood, really racist woman. She kept accusing Shinju of stealing whenever she lost something. She ran Shinju over. She never came to trial for it or even got arrested. She went into a coma after the crash and died a few weeks after Shinju’s funeral.” Steve wrapped his arms around her and cooed as she began to sob again. Lucia forced herself to take deep breathes and say what she needed to. “Shinju’s name means ‘pearl’ in Japanese. She used to talk about how much she loved the sea and everything in it. She wanted to be a marine biologist and save all kinds of sea creatures. Ever since she died, I wanted to name my first daughter Shinju. Every time I look at the sea, I see her reflection and every time I look at a pearl, I hear her voice. I miss her and I want to honor her and her name.” Steve looked in Lucia’s eyes and felt closer to her than he ever had. He loved her more than ever and wanted to help ease her pain. He lifted her chin and kissed away her tears, and drew her deeper into his arms. Lucia felt for the first time in years truly safe in a man’s arms. Steve just held her like that till her breathing slowed and steadied. She seemed half-asleep when he spoke. “Lucia, you know I haven’t named this boat yet.” “Mmm.” “Would you permit me to christen it ‘Shinju’?” Lucia raised her head and rested it on his shoulder. “Mm-hmm.” “Was that a yes?” She nodded and fell asleep. Steve smiled and petted her hair then picked her up and carried her down to bed. He placed her gently under the covers, then kicked of his shoes and snuggled in with her. ***** Back to Isabeau Saberhagen's Page Go to Fan Fiction Page
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