Hawaiian Crosswinds Page 25

  The patriarch seemed to know he was outnumbered this time and gave an assenting nod of his head. “I can agree with hiring a detective, but I had a particular man in mind who is cautious in dealing with the newspapers.”

  “If I hadn’t sent the wire, sir, Celestine would have acted on her own,” Rafe said. “I don’t think you need to worry about the newspapers. Parker Judson isn’t likely to act injudiciously. He too views the newspaper men with a skeptical eye. He shares your view on the need to keep us out of the headlines.”

  “All right, Rafe,” Ainsworth said. “It’s in your hands. You’re right about Parker. He’s an old colleague; we’ve shared a lot together. Just so Townsend isn’t turned over to the authorities before I can talk to my son. I’m not asking this for Townsend’s sake, my boy, but for yours, understand that. You must not permit anger or even justice itself to disqualify you from a fruitful life. I’m depending on you. We all are. Derringtons and Eastons alike. Ambrose will tell you of the deadly harvest of revenge.”

  It grew quiet. Rafe was surprised by Ainsworth’s affectionate display. Can I believe him? He’s asking this for my sake?

  Eden came over and stood beside Rafe. “Rafe won’t step over the line. I know him too well.”

  But do I know myself? Rafe wondered. He looked at Eden. I can’t disappoint her.

  “And Parker knows what’s at stake for the annexation committee going to Washington,” Ainsworth added.

  “Posh,” Nora said, “the annexation committee needs to be unmasked,” and flipped her needlework on the white yarn.

  Ainsworth’s tufted brows inched lower over the light gray eyes as he looked over at her. Unlike Rafe he was not amused. “It is the corrupt monarchy that needs to be unmasked, Nora.”

  “Now Ainsworth, you’re going too far,” Nora scolded. “Liliuokalani is anything but corrupt.”

  “I know you are friends with Liliuokalani, but she is lending an ear to the representatives of the gambling and opium cartels. It’s the Reform Party that is voting against her bills that would otherwise impart nothing to Hawaii but further corruption. I’m surprised you continue to stand with her. I invite you to join with those of us working for what’s best for the Islands.”

  Rafe heard the front door open and slam, and window panes rattled. Heavy footsteps trod across the outer hall toward the parlor where they had gathered. Candace stood quickly, looking tense.

  Rafe turned toward the archway. Zachary stood, his blond hair tousled, his icy blue eyes homing in on Silas across the parlor. If it were possible for eyes to send out flames, Zachary would have toasted his half-brother. He stood there ready for battle.

  Rafe moved toward Zachary, who gripped something in his hand. Rafe saw that it was a walking stick with a silver handle in the shape of a wolf’s head.

  Zachary held it out toward Silas with a scowl. “Is this murderous weapon yours?”

  “Zachary, now what’s this about?” Grandfather Ainsworth asked firmly.

  Silas showed cynical amusement. “Weapon? You mean my prized walking stick?”

  “With a heavy silver handle,” Zachary accused, holding it out again.

  “I must have left it in Candace’s buggy. I met up with her on the road earlier and she gave me a ride.” Silas arched a brow. “Come little brother, as I told Candace earlier, I’m not particularly fond of the handle, but it’s a fine replica of the gray wolf, don’t you agree? Done by a famous artist in the Great Northwest.”

  Rafe watched the fine-tuned interplay, ready to intervene should Zachary lose control and start for Silas.

  “Don’t play elder brother with me,” Zachary snapped. “You know exactly what I mean about this heavy handle.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, old pal, so why don’t you just—”

  “I’m not your old pal, and don’t say brother either.”

  “Rest assured, I won’t trouble you with such an outrageous claim.”

  “Hold on, Zach,” Rafe stated coming up to him, blocking his view of Silas. “We don’t want any accidents here.” He took the walking stick before Zachary could react. For a moment their gaze locked while Zachary glared, then he blinked and his eyes faltered. He pointed toward Silas.

  “He used that on the back of my skull!”

  “We’ll find out. Stay calm.”

  Ainsworth walked up. “Zachary, my boy, what is this? I’m ashamed of your behavior. And with your Great-aunt Nora present, and Candace and Eden. A discussion can take place without angry outbursts. I won’t have this in the house. Either calm down and make your case known, or we won’t talk about it at all right now.”

  Zachary grew silent, but as soon as Silas came forward, he flared up again.

  “This is what you used at the gate in Hunnewell’s garden to clobber me on the head.”

  Rafe saw the flash of anger darken Silas’s eyes as he stared back evenly.

  “Say now, wait a minute,” Silas said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. What are you accusing me of?”

  “You heard me!”

  “And you’re the Christian?” Silas threw the words at Zachary with contempt. “You’ll barge into this room without any respect for those present. Hah!”

  Zachary looked as if Silas had slapped him.

  Silas gripped the walking stick but Rafe held firm. Ainsworth maneuvered Zachary across the room into a chair.

  “Until this is cleared up, Ainsworth had better keep the stick.”

  Silas’s face lost all of its suave glibness. Anger tightened his features and his eyes hardened. He began to say something, then stopped. He looked over at Zachary, who sat with his head in his hands.

  “I’ve had enough of this family. I’ve had enough of the lies, the jealousies, the pretense. I’m leaving!” Silas yelled. He stormed out of the parlor and a moment later the front door slammed again.

  Rafe stood looking after him. The silence was heavy with emotion.

  Zachary seemed to catch his flyaway emotions and push them back into their cage. He groaned, and as if exhausted, placed a hand at his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Eden looked at him sadly. She laid a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of quiet support. She sat down across from him on a settee and lowered her head to pray.

  Rafe’s hand had brushed her shoulder before he moved to the window to see which direction Silas was taking. Seeing the lone figure, head bent, hands in pockets, hurrying toward the beach, Rafe left the parlor and went out the front door after him.

  Rafe found Silas standing on the sand and staring out to sea, beside a huddle of twisted, leaning palms.

  Rafe walked up and Silas showed no surprise. Rafe could see by his tired face that he was a discouraged man, undoubtedly over Zachary’s hatred. He was burdened, as well as under conviction.

  “If you’re considering a swim to the middle of the sea, it won’t do you any good,” Rafe said lightly.

  Silas responded with a wry turn of his mouth. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, right?”

  “Something like that. You need a long talk with Ambrose. He’s the one we all go to when we’re desperate. Some of us have been doing it since we were boys.”

  He gave a nod. “You and Keno. I like Keno. He’d make a true friend. They don’t come around in life that often. And to some of us, never,” he said bitterly.

  “You need to do some reaching out yourself.”

  “There was a time when I didn’t care either way. Not about the Derringtons, Hawaii’s destiny, anything.” He hesitated. “After I arrived last year, met the family, and well … became involved, it all began to take on meaning.”

  “You worked in San Francisco, wasn’t it? The Observer?” Rafe had his reason for asking, but avoided any hint of it in his tone.

  “No, Sacramento. I worked at the Sacramento Journal. Then I received an invitation to come to Honolulu to meet the rest of the Derringtons. It was what I’d always wanted. So I came. I haven’t regretted it, though Za
chary hates my intrusion.”

  Rafe turned his full attention on Silas. This was the first mention of any invitation to come to Honolulu. He’d heard that Silas came on his own. That he’d been in Hawaii for a month before ever showing up at Kea Lani.

  “An invitation from your great-aunt Nora I suppose,” Rafe suggested to see his reaction.

  Silas met Rafe’s gaze evenly, as though he expected a protest when he supplied the answer. “Great-aunt Nora? No. Why did you think that? From Townsend.”

  Townsend. … Townsend had sent for his first son, born out of wedlock, knowing what the shock of his arrival would do to Celestine and Zachary. Why had he done it? It hadn’t benefited Townsend where Celestine was concerned, nor Zachary, who had swung his loyalties over to Nora and the monarchy to lash out at his Grandfather Ainsworth for what he considered rejection. So what had Townsend gained by Silas’s arrival? Probably the presence of a secret son who brought him more satisfaction than Zachary; now that Townsend Derrington was on the run, he had lost that as well.

  “David wrote in the Psalms, ‘I said in my haste, all men are liars.’ What’s the real purpose for your showing up as you did?”

  Silas shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the incoming tide.

  “Who do you work for?”

  Silas kept silent.

  Rafe narrowed his gaze, hands on hips. “Then I’ll tell you. Zach’s guess was right. You work for the gambling cartel out of Louisiana. You came to play the Derringtons for the fools you thought they were. You wanted to do as much damage as you could out of revenge, and get as much money as you could from Townsend. But unforeseen by you, you began to feel accepted for the first time in your life, and you liked it. You weren’t accepted by your half-brother of course, but your grandfather and Nora welcomed you. Even Townsend boasted of you. Eden and Candace welcomed you too. You weren’t alone now. You began to like being a Derrington. You could look into a mirror and see more than a gambler. For the first time you could bond to more than a deck of cards and a bottle of whiskey. You still cooperated with the gambling cartel— you had to. They might go to Ainsworth with the truth if you didn’t. So you joined your grandfather in the Annexation Club to please him and the cartel. They needed a spy to let them know anything going on that might hinder their influence on the queen to pass the lottery bill.

  “What was the real reason that brought you into Hunnewell’s garden the other night? How about the truth for a change? You came to me about the danger Celestine could face with Townsend. You didn’t keep back the fact that he struck her. I don’t think you’d have unmasked yourself to me if you hadn’t felt a commitment to what’s right and decent. How about the truth! Or do you lack the courage?”

  Silas kicked the sand and sent it flying. “All right! Clever, aren’t you?”

  “Just factual.”

  “I’ll tell you. You’ve got most of it right. I did come to Hawaii for the reasons you said. It’s also true, Townsend sent for me. I showed the letter to the cartel in New Orleans—I was a fool. I’d been drinking; I talked too much. Boasted I was a Derrington. Look who my father was. Well, they were excited. They were already making plans to extend the cartel into the Hawaiian Islands. They’d make more money than they’d made in New Orleans and Gretna. They needed a spy, and what better family than the Derringtons, one of the Big Four sugar families of the Islands? It was perfect for them.

  “When I sobered up I was angry. Angry at Townsend. It was his letter that put me in this position. Who did he think he was suddenly contacting me at this late hour in my life? Angry, too, at all the Derringtons!”

  “I always believed that. You came expecting to fling revenge like thunderbolts and instead collected some back payment. You found you were Townsend’s boast around Honolulu, much to Zach’s displeasure.”

  Silas frowned. “If you’re aiming to say I’ve inherited Townsend’s nature, you’re jumping the gun.”

  “Ambrose can tell you all about inherited nature from the one earthly father we all have. You know how strongly Zach resents you, don’t you?”

  “I’ve a good idea,” Silas said, his eyes glinting like steel for once. Even the regular smile, insincere as Rafe thought it to be, was gone.

  “Do you blame him?” Rafe countered. “Since you’ve come to Honolulu, Zach’s been pushed back into a corner. Even Ainsworth decided Zach isn’t the best qualified grandson to run the Derrington sugar production.”

  “I take no pleasure in his loss. All this surprised me as much as it did him.”

  “What have you done to reach out to him? He is, after all, a half-brother. You’re the elder.”

  “You heard him just now at the house. He’d bite my hand off if I extended it.”

  “Zach is emotional. Building any kind of relationship with him would take time, but he needs a brother.”

  “Like you maybe, not me. He scorns me … a gambler, a drinker, no college education.”

  “It’s my opinion you need each other. Start out by writing a letter and explaining yourself. But let’s get back to the main thing. You came here to harass, not make friends.”

  “You’re right,” Silas said with a challenge. “Until recently I wouldn’t have troubled myself about any of them. When I first came I thought they were all fools and that I was going to enjoy using them. But you’re right, it didn’t work out that way. I found myself warming to the family. It filled something empty inside. It was good to feel wanted for a change instead of like a rat stuck in a gambling den.”

  “Who do you work for in the gambling monopoly here in Honolulu?”

  Silas hesitated. “Let’s just say a certain Louisianan.”

  “He’s here in Honolulu, isn’t he?”

  “I won’t ask how you figured that out. Yes. Fact is, he’s got secret access to the queen. Those with him are deceiving her.”

  “Deceiving her?”

  Silas glanced at him. “The queen has a belief in tarot cards. Also, in a certain fortuneteller, a spiritualist. The woman is a German, from Berlin. She advises her to accept offers from the gamblers, to pass the new lottery bill, and allow the sale of opium for revenue for the kingdom. The queen denies it all, of course, to avoid the public outcry.”

  Rafe thought back to the woman Eden saw at Kalihi Hospital.

  “This German woman,” Rafe said, “fortuneteller, is she in and out of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel?”

  Silas looked at him knowingly. “So you’ve seen her. Yes, she’s the one. A deceiver, but well-practiced at what she does. Spies working for the cartel find out certain facts about people and situations the queen has to deal with. Then, the fortuneteller meets with the queen in secret at Iolani, tells her what to expect from these people, and then arranges it. They’re even telling her when to send her cabinet choices to the Legislature for confirmation. The queen would deny it, naturally. Then an anonymous letter, supposedly from a supporter, would be sent to the queen, warning her who could not be trusted, with basically the same information in it that the fortuneteller brought out of her tarot cards. They want that lottery and opium bill passed, you see.”

  Rafe wasn’t fully surprised by the tactics of the cartel when money was involved. The tarot cards, however, were a surprise.

  “There’s a man with the fortuneteller, isn’t there?” Rafe said. And he hadn’t wanted to be noticed.

  “He’s the negotiator out of Louisiana. Not that he’s informed the queen of it. He’s telling her that passage of the lottery bill will bring lots of revenue into the kingdom’s coffers. Well, that’s how it works,” Silas said wearily.

  Rafe’s interest sharpened. Here, then, the path was winding to its end. He could see the final players; the fog was lifting and understanding was coming to the forefront.

  “They followed Sen Fong to Kalihi Hospital that night,” Rafe said. “At least the fortuneteller did. Eden noticed her on the front steps. What was she doing, making certain Sen brought Dr. Jerome to Hunnewell’s?”

 
Silas was looking more uneasy now, almost as if he’d come to himself and was shocked over his action of bearing the facts to Rafe.

  “Yes, that’s it. Look, here, Rafe, I had nothing to do with Sen Fong’s murder. That worried me as much as it did the rest of you, and still does. Sen Fong turned to God and was assassinated because he probably wouldn’t have gone on playing for the cartel. I guess you know where that puts me!”

  “You’re already in this, Silas. Even if you don’t say another word. If you’re serious about the truth you won’t turn back now. I, for one, don’t think you had anything to do with Sen Fong’s death. But we know why he was killed. What I don’t know is why the kingpin wanted to contact Dr. Jerome. I have my idea, but I want to hear it from your perspective first. What about your presence in Hunnewell’s garden?”

  Silas shrugged. “I was the spy, remember? I was told to steal Hunnewell’s annexation manifesto. By then I was beginning to be disgusted with myself. I didn’t want to do it. I wanted out of the gambling business altogether so I could get accepted into the Derrington sugar business. I liked what was happening to me. Ainsworth likes me; so does Nora, and Eden, Candace—too bad about Zachary … and I didn’t crack him on the side of the head with that walking stick!”

  “So you went along with the cartel in the end, took the manifesto, then what?” Now it was coming. …

  “I was told to pass it on to Jerome, who would bring it to the Hawaiian queen when he met with her about the clinic on Molokai.”

  That meeting is tomorrow afternoon.

  Rafe felt unexpectedly tired. He looked out at the waves beginning to wash in, getting ever closer to where they stood on the white sand near the palm trees.

  “Sen Fong brought Uncle Jerome to talk to the Chinese kingpin,” Rafe said thoughtfully. “What did they discuss? Putting an end to teaching the Scriptures to the Chinese?”

  “How did you figure that out?”

  “Ambrose explained, after Sen Fong’s murder. He and Jerome were holding Bible meetings on the sugar plantations. The results are cutting into the opium profits by taking customers away.”

  “I want you to know I had nothing to do with opium. I was part of the plan to take the manifesto and turn it over to Dr. Jerome.”