Venom: A Thriller in Paradise (The Thriller in Paradise Series Book 3) by Rob Swigart Read Free Book Online

to the airport. To pick up your wife?”
    “Oh? Thoughtful of the lieutenant.” Chazz climbed in. The other two crossed the street to the County Building where Takamura’s former partner Sammy Akeakamai was some kind of keeper of public records.
    The County Building was never a busy place even at peak hours, but it was nearly deserted this late in the day. The high foyer echoed the sound of the front door closing behind Cobb and Handel. An administrative gloom closed around them. They walked as softly as possible to an office on the right and entered.
    Sammy Akeakamai sat behind a desk facing the wall, a telephone receiver almost lost in the folds of flesh between his ear and shoulder. His thick graying hair stuck up in tufts. He scratched on a yellow legal pad with a ballpoint pen. Cobb craned over the counter to see: a repetitive pattern of chevrons and sharks. The page was nearly full, which meant that Sammy had been listening for some time without speaking. He turned in his chair when the two policemen entered. It creaked alarmingly, and he said into the telephone, “No, no, everything’s fine. I’m still here.” He winked at Cobb.
    Mumbling noises emerged from the vicinity of his ear. His broad face remained impassive as he removed from his desk drawer a paper-wrapped toothpick, carefully peeled the paper in a thin straight line down one side, gently eased the pick from its wrapping, and inserted it carefully between his left lower bicuspid and canine He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.
    “I’ll get right on it, your honor,” he said at last. He carefully replaced the receiver and smiled at Cobb.
    “Hi, Boss. What can we do for you?”
    “What are you going to do for his honor?”
    “I forget. Something about the annual report. Made any arrests lately? I sure miss the old days. The thrill of the chase, the excitement of the arrest, all that.”
    Cobb laughed. “Jaywalking. Petit larceny, maybe.”
    Sammy looked aggrieved. “Come on,” he said. “We had some drugs here, once. I remember that. And then there was the excitement out at PACMAN, and the thing with the satellite…”
    “Well…”
    “And a murder or two. Come on. Things are dull now, admit it.”
    “We’ve got seven stiffs in the morgue, off a boat Kimiko found last night.”
    Sammy’s eyes grew round and large. He stood up and leaned over the counter. “Tell me about it.”
    “I need a sailor, Sammy. Someone who knows currents, tides, winds. Someone who can read the weather.”
    Sammy thumped his own chest. “Hey, Boss. It’s in our bones. I’m your man.”
    Cobb nodded. “Okay. But I was thinking of your brother Willard. He runs charters.”
    Sammy nodded, deflated. “Sure, he’d be pretty good. He’s on one now, though. You might find him somewhere around Lanai, reefing his sails, getting ready for dinner, which reminds me…”
    Cobb gave up. “All right, dinner. Let’s go.”
    Sammy closed up the office, and minutes later they were at the Paradise Cafe around a loaded table with cold beers in front of them.
    No one spoke as the hot and sour soup, barbecued chicken wings and dim sum, the twice-cooked pork, and rolling lettuce appeared. They ate in dedicated silence. The restaurant was a favorite with the locals, but this early it was nearly deserted. Sounds of occasional stir-fry shot from the kitchen like heat lightning. A squeaky bearing in the ancient air-conditioning gnawed at them like a toothache.
    Finally, Sammy scooped the last of his rice from its bowl and licked his chopsticks clean. He pushed plate and bowl away and waited politely until Cobb and Scott had done the same, unwrapping another toothpick, which he chewed solemnly for a moment before speaking. “All right, Boss. Give it to me.”
    Cobb chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “It’s like this. A ship drifted into Kalalono Bay yesterday. Seven bodies aboard. Time of death is unclear as yet, but rigor mortis had passed. Cause of death is also hazy, but