Molokai Reef (12 page)

The
coroner shook his head. Gybe and Kara thanked him for the
information and reaffirmed their agreement not to reveal the
conversation.

From
the coroner’s office, they walked to the jail where they asked
to see Susan.

19

Susan
was in a small room talking with her court-appointed lawyer when Gybe
and Kara asked to meet with her. After consultation with Susan’s
lawyer, the guard showed Kara and Gybe to the conference room. This
time, they walked through a metal detector.

Susan
introduced her lawyer as Maka Hong.

Kara
took the lead. “Ms. Hong, how many murder cases have you
tried?”

“
Maka,
please call me Maka. This is my first murder case. I’ve been
in the public defenders office for almost a year. Don’t worry
though; I am not afraid to ask the other attorneys in our office for
help.”

“
Susan,
this is your life. From what I have read, Hawai‘i doesn’t
have the death penalty – right Maka.”

“
That
is correct. Life imprisonment is the stiffest penalty.”

“
No
offense Maka, but you have no experience with a murder trial. Susan,
are you OK with Maka as an attorney?”

“
I
didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t kill the scientists.”

Gybe
broke in. “Susan, you’re presumed innocent – but
the way the evidence stands right now, the prosecutor thinks he has a
strong case. Unless you want to rely upon the skills of your eager,
but inexperienced attorney, we need to prove you innocent. Ms. Hong
will have to convince a jury that the prosecutor’s evidence is
faulty. Do you trust her with your life?”

Susan
glanced at her attorney. “What choice do I have? I don’t
have the money to hire the O.J. team. It isn’t fair. I’m
innocent.”

Maka
locked eyes with Susan. “Susan, I’ve been honest. This
is my first murder case. But, like you and your environmental
activism, I believe in what I do. The evidence that I’ve seen
so far is circumstantial. Unless they have more that ties you with
the crime, I can convince a jury that you are not guilty.” She
paused. “I guarantee you that I will defend you to the best of
my abilities.”

Nice
speech, Gybe thought. It would be moot to argue or pursue this
conversation further. “Ms. Hong, Susan – Kara and I just
came from the coroner’s office. Although he wouldn’t
give us a copy of the autopsy report, he answered some of our
questions.”

“
He
talked with you?” Maka showed her naïveté in the
question.

“
Yes,
off the record. I believe that you are entitled to the report. Have
you asked for it?”

“
No.
I came to talk with Susan the first thing this morning. I’ll
request the report as soon as I leave here. Susan has told me that
you are helping her. Are you a private investigator?”

“
No.
Just call me a concerned citizen with an overactive skepticism
gland.”

Gybe
and Kara replayed their conversation with Dr. Abraham in the
coroner’s office. “It seems that the only physical
evidence from the coroner that ties to Susan is the concrete additive
Mellose
. Susan, are you
familiar with the product?”

Susan
nodded. “It’s a new product used in underwater projects.
The state contract that I’m working on to repair the pier
requires that I use
Mellose
.”

“
Is
it hard to get? Who else would use it?” Kara asked.

“
No,
anyone can buy it although only a contractor would know enough to use
it. It is sort of expensive so I wouldn’t expect anyone to use
it unless the contract explicitly specified
Mellose
.”

Gybe
still wasn’t satisfied with Susan’s alibi for that night.
He pressed again.

The
big hand on the wall clock chunked twice before Susan relented.
“There was a full moon that night. Whenever there is a full
moon or a new moon, I like to scuba dive off the reef. Every
fortnight, I go to the same spot.”

“
Who
went with you?” Gybe asked.

“
No
one. I went alone.”

Gybe
was a diver and he knew that one of the sacred rules was to always -
always dive with a buddy. “Who was your dive buddy?”

“
I
am very safety conscious, but I started diving when I was eight.
Sometimes, I go alone. Didn’t I hear Kara say that you sailed
from San Francisco by yourself? Is that safe? How can you maintain
a proper lookout around the clock, day after day?”

“
Fair
enough.” Gybe agreed. There were more rules than he could
keep track of or obey. “Where did you go that night?”

“
I
have a favorite spot that to me is a spiritual place. On nights like
that night, with a full moon I mean, I anchor the boat at this spot.”
Susan explained that instead of dropping the anchor onto the ocean
floor where it could damage the sea life, she dove into the ocean and
tied a line around a Volkswagen-sized boulder. The boulder rested on
the ocean side of the reef.

“
I
dive alone. The water is less than twenty-five feet deep and it is
one of the few places on the Moloka‘i reef that hasn’t
been killed by the corn companies.” Susan nearly spat when she
said corn. Her face flushed.

Gybe
wanted to react to her epithet about the corn companies, but decided
that this wasn’t the time. What was with Kara, and now Susan,
in their crusade against the companies? Could Susan be guilty? Was
Kara as naïve about the deaths as she appeared? He scribbled a
note in his spiral pad and looked up at Susan.

“
Where
is this place?”

She
shrugged. “My secret. It is my place. My place alone.”

“
Before
you went into the water, did you see any other boats around?”

“
No.
I was the only one out there that night. It was a very clear night
– no clouds. With the full moon I would have seen another boat
if one had been there.”

“
What
did you see while you were diving?”

“
On
a full moon, with clear skies, the reef is alive with dozens of fish.
The moonlight penetrates to the bottom so a light isn’t
necessary. On the night of a new moon, the opposite happens. The
bottom of the ocean is pitch black – as black as the depths of
a cave.” Susan’s eyes dilated as she recited her
experiences diving alone on these special nights.

After
a brief pause, she continued. “Then I practice my yoga.”

“
Huh?
Meditate?” Not what Gybe expected.

“
Yoga.
I work through a set of asanas – dhanura, nataraja, chakra,
sirsha, et cetera. Finally, I assume padma-asana.” Sensing
that her lawyer was unfamiliar with yoga, Susan explained each of the
positions, then added. “Padma-asana is commonly called the
lotus position. It’s probably the first image you visualize
when someone mentions yoga.”

“
What?
You’re saying you lay out your yoga mat and work through your
asanas while wearing a scuba tank, BC, fins, and mask?” Gybe
practiced yoga when he had time, but he couldn’t visualize the
postures while wearing scuba gear. Reacting to Kara’s puzzled
look, Gybe added. “BC is a buoyancy compensator.”

“
Sort
of. On the sand, which is several inches deep, I don’t need
the mat. As for the scuba gear, I remove everything but the weight
belt. Although the water is cool, low 70’s, I don’t wear
a wetsuit.”

Susan
piled her equipment at the edge of the sand and attached a
twenty-foot long hose to her regulator. On her weight belt, she used
a small air bottle and bladder to achieve neutral buoyancy at the
depth.

“
With
the full moon illuminating the water, the experience is surreal.”
Susan described the reef life. A moray eel, she called him Morrie –
how original - lived between two rocks near the base of the reef.
There were dozens of fish drifting about the reef. Sometimes, the
fish bumped into her as she sat perfectly still. She had seen squid,
octopi, and green sea turtles. And barracudas were around most of
the time.

Kara
jumped in. “You meditate underwater in pitch black when the
moon is new? What about sharks, eels, and other critters? Aren’t
you afraid?”

Gybe
noticed that a serenity had settled on Susan’s face as she
discussed her underwater yoga antics. As unusual as it sounded, he
made a mental note to try it sooner rather than later.

“
There’s
nothing like it. If the Hindus had had scuba, yoga would be an
underwater activity today. Under a new moon, I meditate with my eyes
open. I’ve learned to control my fears. Think of the
self-esteem after such a practice. Besides, the critters as you call
them are mostly friendly.

“
But
what of the danger?” Kara wouldn’t give in.

“
We
– the collective we of mankind – have killed and are
killing many of the predators of the ocean. Here on Moloka‘i,
the seed corn conglomerates with their genetic engineers have killed
the reef. Much of the reef is just dirty, brown dead coral with few
fish, little live coral, no anemones, no eels, no nothing. There is
little reason for the higher predators – sharks if you will -
to visit most of the reef.” Then as an afterthought, “there’s
nothing for them to eat.”

Anger
had replaced serenity on her face and in her posture. The
transformation was as abrupt as an octopus camouflaging itself.
Whether Susan killed the scientists or not, Gybe observed, her
passion ran deep. Deep enough for murder.

Not
willing to give up on the image of the new moon, Kara continued.
“But on the new moon, it must be so dark down there?”

“
During
a new moon, twenty feet under water, it’s darker than inside a
Black Angus bull’s belly at midnight,” she philosophized,
“with his tail down.”

Kara
confirmed that Susan didn’t need anything before she and Gybe
left Susan and her attorney to continue their conference.

“
What
do you think of her lawyer?” Kara asked Gybe as they boarded
the bus for the return trip.

20

They
rode the bus back towards Mala Wharf. When the bus passed through
Lahaina town, Gybe signaled the stop and they got off.

He
gave Kara the fifty-cent walking tour of old Lahaina before guiding
her into the Lahaina Yacht Club. “Let’s grab a drink.”

The
Yacht Club sat on a prime location on the makai side of the street.
In an alcove near the front door, the club sold T-shirts, hats, and
other club miscellany to members and tourists. Kara bought a
souvenir T-shirt printed with the burgee and name of the yacht club.

After
a drink at the club, they ambled along the waterfront towards Mala
Wharf. Like flood waters seeking a storm drain, some tourists
inundated T-shirt and trinket shops while others overwhelmed
restaurants and bars. Gybe started to comment on the clueless
tourists until he recalled that they too were tourists.

Kara
cast off the lines and Gybe motored away from the old Mala Wharf.
“That boat looks familiar.” Gybe commented as he swung
Aweigh
’s bow towards the vessel.

As he
neared the forty-foot or so sailboat, Gybe painted a happy grin
across his face.

Aboard
the vessel, hearing the approaching outboard, a woman raised her head
from where she had been working on the bow and turned towards the
dinghy. She stood to greet Gybe.

Barefoot,
Flyn stood five foot eight and wearing only a sarong around her
waist, she weighed no more than 140. Her ash blond hair was short –
the only maintenance being a quick shake of her head after leaving
the water. A blue dolphin tattoo leaped from beneath the sarong
towards her navel.

Gybe
requested permission to tie up. To the boat, not the dolphin.

“
Gybe!
I didn’t know you were in Hawai‘i.” Flyn beamed
and bent over the lifelines ready to take the dinghy painter.

Kara
tossed the painter to Flyn’s hand. Gybe watched the body
language as the two women interacted for the first time.

Gybe
followed Kara aboard where they settled under the cockpit awning.
Gybe introduced the women. Flyn offered ice tea.

Eleven
years earlier, Gybe had met Flyn during a year he spent sailing the
Chesapeake Bay. For a few weeks during that summer, he anchored
above the drawbridge that crossed Spa Creek. The bridge connected
Annapolis with its neighbor, Eastport. Spa Creek was a short creek
that flowed into the Severn River near the U.S. Naval Academy.

Flyn
had her boat anchored there at the same time. They had become good
friends or as Flyn explained ‘best friends.’

Flyn’s
boat was a Swan forty-one. She and an ex-boyfriend had purchased it
at an auction of seized assets taken by the Drug Enforcement
Administration. Drug smugglers had built two secret compartments on
the outside of the hull below the waterline. When the U.S. Coast
Guard stopped and then boarded the vessel off Cape Hatteras, divers
found the homemade compartments.