Chan asked what was up.
“It’s a body. They found it out back,” said officer Williams.
Chan’s pulse quickened as the fear returned. All of them went behind the Moana. Detective Stillman lay in a pool of blood. Given the battering and scattering of flesh and bone, there was no doubt but that he’d fallen from up above, the eighth floor.
“So Bobby confronted him,” said Kono. “Son of a bitch.”
“David,” Kauhane asked, “did Bobby think he was supposed to apprehend him on his own?”
Chan sat down heavily on the sidewalk. He shook his head. “I specifically told him to sit on Wo fat. I didn’t think I’d have to tell him not to confront that bastard without backup. He’s no rookie.”
“What’s our next move?” Kelly asked.
Chan looked over at Stillman. He pictured the woman on the beach, and Calvin Jones’ battered body. “If he hasn’t left by now, we have a chance. Let’s see what flights he might take and how soon. He’s not too far ahead of us.”
A call to the Airport Authority told them that there were two flights headed for Shanghai. Chan asked what other flights there might be to Asia. There were two for Tokyo, and one for Peking.
“You never know,” said Chan. “He might be desperate enough to take any flight that’ll get him somewhere near home.”
The four drove to Honolulu International Airport. Of course Chan was the only one who’d actually seen Wo Fat, but the other three had a good idea of what he looked like.
“I just thought of something,” said Chan. “He won’t be carrying his luggage, but you know what? He’s got his goddam precious cue stick. Asshole didn’t leave that behind. It’ll be a small slim case.”
When they split up the possible flights, Chan got Air Asia. He asked at the ticket counter if there were a Wo Lai Chan scheduled on either their Tokyo or Shanghai flight. No one by that name. Of course not. Chan knew that the Fat Man wouldn’t use his real name heading out, now that the heat was on.
He wished he had a photo to show the clerk. He described the Fat Man as best he could, but all he got was a puzzled headshake no.
The four met up again. No one by that name was headed out. Now they’d have to roam the departure areas and hope they could identify him.
Because he could ID Wo Fat, Chan covered the closest set of departure gates. The Fat Man would most likely walk that way to get out to whatever gate he’d take.
As Chan waited, he couldn’t help but think about Bobby Stillman, lying there, another victim of this drug-dealing murderer. He imagined Wo Fat in the same prone position. He pictured him hit the pavement and explode. He imagined he saw himself looking up at himself standing on the 8th floor, laughing for having pushed Wo Lai Chan over the edge.
* * * * *
Aloha #WriterTuesday. Today’s #WritingPrompt is
Use it to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece somewhere I can read it. I’d love to see what you come up with : )