The codebreakers secret, p.19
The Codebreaker's Secret, page 19
The phone rang, startling her.
“Hello?”
“Miss Freitas, it’s Stanley. Is Joni there with you by any chance?”
“No. We were supposed to swim, but she never showed up. I came up and knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer, so I went without her.”
Again.
“So, you haven’t seen her this morning?” he repeated.
“Nope.”
The line went dead. Twenty minutes later, it rang again.
It was Russi. “Meet me in the lobby.”
Lu looked at the clock. In half an hour, they were supposed to leave for Waimea. She wanted to flesh out this story more. “I’ll be down at ten.”
“You might want to come now.”
She threw on her jeans, a plaid shirt and cowboy boots and ran down the stairs. Russi was leaning on the railing eating a banana and watching two women in swimsuits and heels stroll by below.
“What’s up?” she said.
He turned. “Whoa, cowboy. What happened to your face?”
“I fell asleep on the beach after our game,” she said, fighting the urge to scratch.
He glanced around, but no one was paying them any attention. “So, I was down here getting the paper and I heard Stanley Welch arguing with the front desk lady about getting a key to Joni’s room. When she told him they don’t give out keys, he got all worked up, saying she’s missing. The lady said she’d send someone up to check on Joni.”
Lu’s immediate thoughts were about Joni, but a part of her also wondered why Russi would let her in on this. The more time she spent with him, the more he surprised her.
He went on. “I waited down here. When the bellman came back, I heard him tell the lady that Joni’s stuff was there and to let Rockefeller know.”
“She’s probably out for a walk,” Lu said, while at the same time feeling a thread of apprehension loop around her.
“Stanley said he looked everywhere.”
“On the whole property? I doubt that. She could have hiked down to Hapuna, or up toward Spencer.”
“Joni’s not the kind of girl to go off hiking by herself. She needs people around her. Haven’t you noticed that?” he said.
“How do you suddenly know so much about Joni?” Lu asked.
He looked down at blue tile. “We go back a ways.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I know her enough to know that,” he said.
An understanding came over Lu. “You and Joni dated, didn’t you?” With looks like his, it was no surprise women threw themselves his way, but somehow Joni did not seem his type. Way too young and moody. But what did she know?
“Date is not the right word.”
“Screwed?”
He flinched. “I took her out a few times when she came to New York. We met at a dinner and she and I were the only two single people there.”
A moment later, Mr. Rockefeller came down the steps. He, too, was dressed in his finest paniolo attire—faded jeans, blue checkered shirt and a tall Stetson. He beelined to a woman at the front desk and exchanged a few words. Russi approached, Lu right behind him.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear Stanley earlier. Has Miss Diaz been located yet?” Russi asked.
LSR looked pained. “I think the man might be making a mountain out of a molehill. He seems a bit—how should I say it—overbearing. But to be sure, I’ll alert Mr. Buttonwood to put out feelers.”
He was right about Stanley, but Lu still felt uneasy. “I know she was looking forward to going up the mountain. She told me she loves horses. She knows to be here at ten,” she said.
“We’ll regroup then,” Mr. Rockefeller said, waving to one of his security guards.
She thought about the couple in the water. Could the woman have been Joni? Maybe she was holed up in the room with some unknown male guest. It wouldn’t be out of the question. Though, so far, Lu hadn’t seen any solo men. Not that she went around looking, but as an unattached woman, you noticed these things.
Russi seemed to share her concern, because he said, “Let’s do a sweep before we go. You take the point and the beach, and I’ll take the hotel.”
They split up, and Lu passed the Dining Pavilion and walked down the long path toward the point, which then hairpinned back down to the north end of the bay. She scanned the rocks, the beach and the water. Only a couple people were standing in the shore break, looking unsure about jumping in. A strong rip tore up the middle of the bay.
On the beach, she rolled up her jeans and hurried across the sand, scanning for towels or shoes or some kind of sign that Joni might have been there. But there was nothing, only scattered coral, a small cowrie and a few twisted pieces of driftwood. Coming back from the far end, she walked along the berm. Sandy grass and trees went back from the beach to a cliffy area covered in kiawe. Nothing.
Russi was waiting for her in front of the Dining Pavilion. “If she’s here, she’s in one of the rooms. Possibly passed out from an all-nighter,” he said.
“What if she left without telling anyone?”
“With all her stuff in the room? I doubt it. If you haven’t noticed, Joni is bright and charming, but she’s a lost soul,” he said.
“I sensed something.”
“I felt for her, you know? Fame like she had couldn’t be easy, especially at her age. She told me what a messed-up childhood she had. She immigrated from Tijuana—drunk mom, and a bunch of brothers who lived on the wild side. She dropped out of school and hit the road just to escape. Her and her guitar.”
“Wow, so you did spend some time with her,” Lu said.
“Joni was high as a kite the first night I met her. Told me her whole life story under an Ansel Adams photograph. More than I wanted to know, really. She was lucky I didn’t print any of it, but she told me I could if I wanted to.”
So he did have a heart.
“I know. I had the same feeling with her. Like I wanted to protect her,” she said.
“Seems like she was on a path of self-destruction,” Russi said.
“Do you think she would have done something stupid?” Lu said, looking at the beach again and half expecting to see Joni appear.
“I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling,” he said, lifting up his camera and snapping a shot of Lu, right in her face.
“What was that for?” she said.
“Documenting what I’m guessing is going to be a big story.”
“Why me?”
“Your expression says it all. I don’t know that I can explain it. Years of studying people. That’s what it takes. And when the moment moves me, I shoot away.”
* * *
In the lobby, the group assembled. Big Joe and the senator both had the same cowboy hat on, and the wives had not a hair out of place. Mrs. Carlsmith was the only one in a dress.
“I leave the hard stuff to the men. Give me a beach towel and a book any day. I’m just going along for the ride,” she said with a sweet smile.
Somehow, word had spread that Joni Diaz was missing. Mrs. Rockefeller milled about, assuring them that LSR had it handled. Someone was going door to door to all the rooms inquiring. Trucks were lined up outside to take the group up the hill, but they were waiting on Mr. Rockefeller. Some on wooden benches in the circle, others in the lobby. You could sense the impatience as the time went by. Joni was infringing on their adventure. How rude of her.
“It feels wrong to leave when a member of our group is missing,” Lu said to Russi, off to the side.
“It’s gonna be interesting to see how this all plays out.”
Ten minutes later, Mr. Buttonwood came around and informed them that Mr. Rockefeller would not be accompanying the group to Parker Ranch. “Miss Diaz’s whereabouts are still unknown and he needs to tend to the situation.”
Lu turned to Russi. “I’m staying.”
He seemed to be weighing what to do, then said, “We’ll stay here and do what we can to help.”
Lu wanted to hug him.
“I’m afraid there’s not much any of you can do right now. I suggest you all go to the ranch. If she’s still missing when you come back, then we’ll sound the alarms.”
Mrs. Rockefeller, bless her heart, said, “I should think that those who want to go should go, and those who want to stay, stay. Laurance will be here.”
No one else knew Joni personally, so though they expressed concern, they all piled into the trucks and left.
“Now what?” Lu asked.
“We go find her manager, and get his take.”
Though it was still morning, they found Stanley down at the beach bar gesturing wildly as he spoke to Jerry. “Theoretically, how far could someone go up and down this coast by foot?”
Jerry, who was slicing chilled lemons, calmly said, “There are old Hawaiian trails that go pretty much around the whole island—or used to, at least. But it’s not easy going. Between the lava, the kiawe thorns and the sun, most people don’t get too far.”
Jerry greeted them, but Stanley kept talking. You could hear the desperation in his voice. “What about the water? If you got swept out, where would you end up? Joni could swim, but she was no Olympian.”
Jerry looked out at the water. “Right now, it’s running straight out to sea. After that, it all depends on the tide and the wind and the current. Every day is different out there.”
Stanley seemed to just notice Lu and Russi. “How come you two are still here?”
“We wanted to see if we could help,” Lu said.
Russi pulled out a stool and sat. “Where do you think Miss Diaz is?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be down here picking this guy’s brain, would I now?” Stanley said, blowing a greasy lock of hair off his forehead.
“You knew her better than any of us. Do you think she’d have just left without telling anyone?” Lu asked.
“You never know with Joni, but I saw her last night before she went to bed. We had a glass of brandy together in her room. She was already in her robe. Said she was tired from the long day, and I left. We had plans for coffee this morning after her swim with you,” he said, eyeing Lu.
“So, let me rephrase my question. Are you worried that Miss Diaz has accidentally gotten into trouble—maybe out in the water? Do you think she left the premises on purpose, or do you think she may have done something stupid?” Russi said.
Stanley looked pissed all of the sudden. “Now hang on. The last bloody thing we need is the press all over this. I’m talking to you two as friends of Miss Diaz. You don’t have my permission to print any of this. Not a word.”
Lu had never been in a position like this, where she was actually part of the story, not just the one writing about it.
“No one here is going to jump the gun, so don’t worry about that. Miss Freitas and I just want to help. But if Joni is genuinely missing, a story will come out whether you like it or not. So, prepare yourself,” Russi said.
Stanley sat on the stool next to Russi, looking thin and deflated. “You two had a thing. You weren’t together last night, were you?” He was a small man with a thin mustache and a big nose. He wore bell-bottoms and gold-rimmed glasses. He also worshipped Joni to a fault.
“Negative. I was playing chess with Miss Freitas here.”
Lu figured it was time to mention the couple in the water. “After we played, I went for a walk on the beach. It was such a nice night I lay down to look at the stars and ended up falling asleep. When I woke up, I heard a man and a woman’s voices. They were in the water.”
Stanley glared at Russi. “Maybe that’s why she wanted me out. You sure you two didn’t go for a midnight swim?”
“Look, man, I took Joni out a couple years ago, a couple of times. That’s it.”
Lu stuck up for him. “Mr. Russi does not swim. So, it wouldn’t have been him. It was probably just some young newlyweds, but I figured I’d mention it, in case.”
In case what?
“We should see what’s missing from her room. Shoes, purse, that kind of thing. That would help determine where we should look,” Russi said.
Stanley looked doubtful. “If they’ll let us.”
Uncle Jerry chimed in. “If I were you, I’d send a team out to search up and down the coast. If you get off the trail in places, it can be easy to get turned around, especially if you’re in the kiawe.”
Lu remembered crawling around with her cousins hunting for petroglyphs. There were a whole bunch scattered up and down the coast, old Hawaiian carvings in the pahoehoe—the smooth lava. Canoes and fishhooks and men holding paddles, or geometric patterns and dots and circles that were said to commemorate births and other life events. The petroglyph field near Puako was hard to find and she recalled it being sweltering and full of bees. Kiawe thorns had poked through her shoes in many places, and once there, all she’d wanted to do was go jump in the ocean. Pretty soon, they realized they were going in circles, and it felt like hours before they found their way out.
LSR was in his office with Mr. Buttonwood and Keith Kanuha, head of security. As soon as he saw Lu, he waved them all in.
“Folks, I heard you had stayed behind. That’s good of you. I need you keep this all private until we either find Miss Diaz or have to call in the police. Preferably the former,” he said.
“She’ll turn up. They always do,” said Mr. Buttonwood, looking smug.
Lu felt like hitting him. “We can’t assume that.”
“Have you checked the airport? In case she decided to hightail it out of here for some reason,” Russi said.
“We did. They haven’t seen her. Nor did she book a flight.”
Stanley crossed his arms over his chest. “We need to send out a search party ASAP.”
“Do any of you have insight into what may have caused her to disappear? It would be helpful to know what kind of frame of mind she was in,” Mr. Rockefeller asked.
“Do we think she’d try and off herself? That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” Stanley said.
“I didn’t say that, but we may as well put everything on the table.”
They all looked to Stanley, who suddenly seemed jumpy and twitchy. “I’m not getting into her personal stuff, but I would not put it past her to do something rash. Joni could be impulsive, especially when under the influence.”
Under the influence of what, was the question.
LSR stood up and walked over to a big aerial photo on the wall of the whole area. “Do you want to search first and then call the police if we don’t find her? Or call the police now? I’d rather be safe than sorry, but it’s your call.”
“Search, then call,” Stanley said.
23
THE NEWS
O‘ahu, 1943
Matteo’s absence had left an indent in her heart. Every night, Isabel leafed through the photo album and revisited their outings. As much as she appreciated the pictures of her and Walt, she craved one of Matteo. Only in her mind could she conjure up that sly smile that went up on just one side, the soul-searching eyes, the kindness that radiated off him. Gloria came and went, but Isabel didn’t feel like doing much other than working and translating.
“You have that whole album and not one photograph of Matteo?” Gloria said one night, curling up next to her and sipping a gin and tonic, her favorite drink—when she could get ahold of a bottle of gin. They were hard to come by.
“He doesn’t like his picture taken.”
“Why not?”
“He says it’s bad luck. A pilot superstition, I guess.”
“Go figure. Jean Aubrey’s husband is a pilot and he sticks a ratty stuffed owl behind his seat on every single flight. Believes with every ounce of his being that he needs that owl to keep him alive. As if a stuffed owl has any real effect,” Gloria said, downing the rest of her drink and wiping her mouth. “Men do the darnedest things.”
Isabel laughed. “And they call us the weaker sex.”
“Smarter sex is what we are. Speaking of,” Gloria said, lowering her voice. “Can I run something by you?”
“Of course.”
“I know it’s probably nothing, but last night when I was at Dickie’s I read something that I wasn’t supposed to and now wish I hadn’t. You know me, I like to stick my nose in other people’s business. In this case, I saw a letter on his desk and my eyes honed in. I didn’t mean to read it, but I couldn’t stop—it was clearly a woman’s handwriting. The letter was from someone named Nancy Kuehn and she mentioned ship locations and photographs and something about the Japanese consulate. At first, I skimmed over that, looking for signs of who this Nancy person was, worried that Dickie might be two-timing me. He was in the shower and my heart was hammering like mad. In the end, Nancy told him she loved him and couldn’t wait to see him at the Lanikai overlook and she’d give him the envelope then. I wanted to go back and read the first part, but the shower turned off,” Gloria said, all in one breath.
Isabel was not entirely surprised about the girl, but the bit about the Japanese consulate, now that was interesting. “Did you get to read the rest?”
“No, because Dickie was coming out. But the letter was dated November 1941. So whoever this Nancy person was, was in the past.”
“I’d be less worried about Nancy than the other part.”
“Do you think he could be a spy?” Gloria said.
“If he were a spy, they’d have rounded him up already. But it does sound suspicious.”
