The Aloha Conspiracy

"I saw a report in the newspaper about a woman being killed in a car crash on the H1 several days ago. I saw what I was told was the car involved at Ace Towing, and I don't believe that she could have been driving it since the car had a stick shift. She had told me that she could not drive a car with that kind of transmission."

I sat back and looked at each officer in turn. They did not react, they simply returned my look. After a considerable pause, Captain Kurata consulted a file on his desk, looked up and asked, "Is the victim in this case known as Janice Vickers?"

"Yes, sir."

"How well did you know her?"

I leaned forward again. "Well, to tell you the truth, I didn't know her very well at all. In fact, our first meeting was under very strange circumstances which just might have a bearing on this whole thing."

I told them about being flagged down five days earlier, about our later encounter and the story she had told. After finishing, I looked at each of them in turn and said, "But you must know about that. She talked to the police that night."

Sanderson spoke up. "Is there anyone else who knows these circumstances?"

"Yes, there is. Her, I guess, next door neighbor, Miss, or Mrs., I don't know which, Cathy Hartson. She was with her when we met at the Exchange and heard the whole story. I talked with her on the phone yesterday, and she said that Janice had tried to borrow her car that night but refused it because it had a stick shift. I guess that's why seeing that car in the junkyard rang my chimes."

The two officers looked at one another, and I could swear I saw Sanderson nod. The Captain's attention returned to me.

"Mr. Stoner, officers talked with Ms. Hartson the morning after the crash, and she told us essentially the same story. Thank you for calling and for coming in. That's all for now. We'll call you if we need you for anything else. Please give your address and phone number to the sergeant on your way out. Thanks again."

By the time I had walked the width of the parking lot to my car, I had come up with an even dozen questions I should have asked, starting with, "What are you doing about it?" and ending with, "Have you located her husband yet?" Given their attitude, however, I doubted if even one of them would have been answered. I climbed in the car, pulled out and headed down Beretania Street to intercept H1, my mind running at full speed. This was sort of exciting, I thought. How can I stay in the game?

Cathy. She was the only real link I had left with Janice. I looked at the dashboard clock: it read 5:05. I wondered if she were home? What the hell, I thought, I was headed in that general direction anyway.

* * * * *

I searched through the names listed by the house phone in the outer lobby. There she was. C. Hartson followed by a four digit number.

"Hello."

"Cathy, this is Marcus Stoner. I'm down here in your lobby. I apologize for showing up on your doorstep this way, but I'd like to talk with you for a little bit. If you have the time, that is."

There was just a slight hesitation before she responded. "By all means. I'll buzz you in."

I cradled the phone and grabbed the door as the buzzer sounded. I rang for an elevator and stepped in as the doors slid open. Floor? Damn it. In my rush of explanation I had forgotten to ask her apartment number. Out of the elevator and back to the phone.

"Hello."

"It seems I forgot to get your apartment number."

She laughed. "I wondered how you were going to solve that one. It's 508. See you in a minute."

I hesitated in front of the door of her apartment, wondering fleetingly how I looked. As I raised my hand to push the button situated in the center of the door, it swung open.