And they meant it. Everything indicated that no one had been home for days. The generator that powered the house was silent, and the refrigerator stood open and empty. Morrison’s wardrobe was full of clothes. A few items must be missing, but he was definitely traveling light.

But one thing leaped out at Coutinho.

“The Joseph Kai guitar is gone, though.”

“Stands to reason,” said Kim.

Anyone who understood these islands would grab the guitar that had belonged to the legendary musician even before a toothbrush or passport.

“And the gun safe is empty,” said Kim. “The one we’re not supposed to know about.”

He pointed to the corner of the master bedroom, where a wooden trunk had been pushed aside to reveal a compartment in the floor. The cops wouldn’t need the combination, because it the lid was open. So was the safe, and it held nothing.

“So where did he go?”

“Guess we’ll find out when the shooting starts,” said Coutinho.

5

“Quiet so far,” said Lieutenant Tanaka.

“Too quiet,” said Coutinho.

Tanaka gave him a look.

“Sorry. Always wanted to say that.”

“Get the jokes out of your system. It won’t last.”

“I know. But it’s true. Josiah hasn’t heard a whisper.”

Josiah Kalama was the man who knew everything about everybody on the Big Island, and he usually needed to earn points with the police. Coutinho never bothered leaning on the man, Josiah didn’t hold out on him.

Coutinho’s cell phone rang. He looked at the display and recognized the throwaway phone that Josiah was using this week.

“Speak of the devil. Always wanted to say that, too.”

He put his cell on speaker. Josiah’s hoarse whisper insinuated his way into the room.

“How’s the Hawaii County Navy?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Word is, you got a sea battle in the works.”

“Who says?”

“Come on, you know. The mokes always talk story.”

“Okay, who’s involved in this battle?”

“Morrison and somebody.”

“Come on, Josiah. Where and when?”

“That I don’t know. You know what I mean. I can’t look too interested when I’m hearing this stuff. Could be dangerous to my health.”

“Give me names.”

“Fo’ why you do me li’ dat, Coutinho?”

“Because this is serious.”

“You didn’t hear this from me. Rivera and Siegel were talking.”

“At Isaac Hale?”

“Where else you gonna find them?”

The names belonged to two minor pakalolo dealers. For years they had done business at the local beach. But if Morrison had gone missing, who knew what other eternal truths had crumbled?

“I gotta go, Coutinho.”

“Okay, Josiah. Keep me informed.”

The call ended. Coutinho, Kim and Tanaka sat in silence for a moment.

“Rivera and Siegel,” said Tanaka finally.

“Two holdovers from the Schilling thing,” said Coutinho.