The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 1: American Nightmares (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #1) (32 page)

We stepped inside and found the chairs resting on their tables, and a few wiseguys standing around and playing cards. Some slob in an apron was wiping down the bar and another tested the keys on the main stage’s piano. Grecian statues stood around between the tables, staring mournfully into the blue sky while they flexed alabaster arms. A couple of Flynn’s thugs stood up to look at us we walked inside.

I knew a little about Fancy Freddy Flynn. Like me, he was from New York.  During the time that I was running booze and getting the tar knocked out of me while I played hooky from the orphanage, Fancy Freddy was making a mint off of themed clubs in Harlem and the Bronx. He figured out that sometimes the rich like to pretend to be poor – and they’ll pay through the nose for that feeling.

I figured I’d have to make some noise to get his attention. I glared at Selena and Weatherby. “Keep her out of it, Weatherby,” I ordered, and walked to the middle of the room, cracking my knuckles. “I want to see Flynn,” I said. “And I don’t want to wait around.”

One of the gangsters pushed up the brim of his panama hat. He was a big bruiser, probably an ex-boxer who had taken one too many blows to the noggin. He sized me up as he removed the cigar from his mouth. “Who’s asking?”

I planted one in his chest, sliding my fist into his gut, where the skin was soft and the blow would hurt. He curled up and crumpled, and I pulled back my leg to give him a good crack on the jaw, when Selena grabbed my arm. I turned to stare at her.

“There’s no need for this,” she said. Behind me, I heard a switchblade snap open. “We just want to talk!” Selena cried. “All we want to do is ask Mr. Flynn a few questions – and nothing more.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Then a door on the first story creaked open. “A pretty girl asking for an audience with Fancy Freddy?” The man himself stepped out, resting both hands on the railing. “I’ll be right down.” Fancy Freddy Flynn was a broad-shouldered man in a neat cream-colored white suit with pinstripes. He had a careful pencil thin moustache and a bright red paisley tie covered in geometric designs. He walked down, his hands folded as he smiled at Selena. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. I had a feeling his interest would cause some trouble. “So, honey-bunch, what’s the score?”

I stepped in front of Selena. “I’m Mort Candle. I’m here because Horace Pepperdine is dead. Did you waste him?”

“That chump? He was asking for it.” Fancy Freddy removed his hat and ran a finger through his pomade-sculpted dark hair. “But I didn’t whack him. The sucker owned me money, but he finally came through and said he had the dough to pay me back – the next day, he gets himself eaten by sharks or something.”

“While in his office,” I corrected. “His body was mutilated without ever stepping outside.”

“That so? What a tragedy. And I bet the cash he owes me is still secured somewhere at the Grand Tiki. Maybe I’ll swing by and pick it up – if that old mummy of a wife hasn’t swiped it already. Did she send you?” Fancy Freddy weaved behind Selena. His men were closing in like a pack of wolves. I remembered what had finally gotten Fancy Freddy Flynn busted in New York, forcing him to come out here: it had been something to do with a woman. “Well, you can tell her that maybe she can give me something else instead of the money. Something like that sweet little piece of raven-haired cutie pie standing next to you.”

Weatherby stepped up to Fancy Freddy and hit him, slamming a scrawny fist into the underside of the gangster’s chin. “You will refrain from saying such things about my sister, you discourteous dog!” he cried. “She’s a good girl, um, a good woman, and I won’t have scum like you talking about her!”

Fancy Freddy rubbed his chin. “Your sister, eh?” He reached into his coat and drew out a switchblade, flicking it open in a single smooth motion. “I’ll give her something to remember me by. Now get the Hell out of my way.” He lunged for Weatherby.

I had been expecting trouble the moment we showed up at the Paradiso. I reached out and grabbed Fancy Freddy’s arm as he stabbed with the blade, and pulled him back. It was time to ruin his good looks. I planted a heavy blow to his chest, and then spun him around and aimed his face at the nearest statue. It was some nude Greek dame, baring her bosom for all to see. I rammed Fancy Freddy’s face into her belly, and let him slide to the ground. His face was bloody.

I looked around at his goons. “When he wakes up, tell him he can come and get the money any times he likes,” I said. I looked at Selena. She was holding tightly to Weatherby, shivering slightly in the tropical heat. I gave her a quick nod, and we all headed for the exit. Like I suspected, Fancy Freddy’s thugs didn’t go after us. Taking out their boss left them confused and stupid.

We got out to Selena’s woodie car, and she got into the driver’s seat. “My God, Weatherby,” she whispered. “You could have been killed!”

“Well, you could have been killed as well – or something worse!” Weatherby pointed out. “I told you, this is dangerous work, Selena. Maybe, it really isn’t the place for you.”

“Perhaps, but I can’t allow you to wander into danger, darling – I just can’t!”

“But I’m not in danger,” Weatherby pointed out. “I have Mr. Candle looking after me.”

I stared at Weatherby. I never realized just how much he trusted me to keep him from harm. “I do okay,” I said. “And we’ve made a pretty good career out of it. Mostly, by throwing the first punch and making sure it’s the last.”

“I can’t say I approve.” Selena lowered her head. “But I wasn’t in Europe. I didn’t see what happened at Castle Stein, and I wasn’t there when I was needed. So you do whatever you have to, Mr. Candle, to keep my baby brother safe.” She turned the key and started the car. “Now, let’s go see this Big Joe Lono character, shall we?”

I leaned back and stared out the window at the stucco storefronts as we headed out. Selena Stein was tougher than she looked. Her love for her brother – her guilt for her family – made her that way. I had a feeling she was someone I could count on.

We reached Big Joe Lono’s place a little later in the day. A couple white clouds were striped across the bright blue sky. Big Joe Lono’s cabin was sequestered in one of the splotches of dark jungle that marked the islands. He had a couple of fruit stands on the side of the road, next to a large field where a small crowd of islanders had gathered. All of them were Native Hawaiians. We stopped the car and stepped out. Tiki statues of various sizes dotted the grass, and strings holding shells and other charms dangled down from the tall trees.

“You know this fellow?” I asked Selena, as we walked to the crowd. “Seems right up your alley.”

“I’ve heard of him actually. He’s supposed to practice some of the darker sorceries, as well as healing arts. I’ve spoken to other Kahunas, and I was kind of, well, working up my courage to talk to him.”

“Swell,” I muttered, as we approached the crowd. We squeezed our way in and got a look at Big Joe Lono. He was dancing around a smoldering camp fire, waving his hands to cast strange designs in the smoke. Big Joe was naked to the waist, wearing only a pair of shorts. His skin was marked with ash and chalk, drawing skeleton bones on his muscled thighs. He was a big guy, tan and bald. He suddenly held up one hand, something white flashing on the wrist. I saw slimy fish eyes gleaming in his palm.

Selena explained the ceremony at a whisper. “He’s impersonating Kaho’ali’i, the God of the Underworld.  It’s an annual ritual.” We watched as Big Joe brought the fish eyes to his mouth, opened his mouth, and gobbled them down like they were grapes.

I guessed that finished the ritual. The audience drifted away, breaking into groups and chatting like society women at church. Several of them approached Big Joe Lono, asking him to remove curses or say prayers for relatives. We got in line and waited. Somehow, I figured making a lot of noise wouldn’t work with this guy. Soon enough, we were in front of Big Joe. He seemed surprised.

“Haole,” he said, resting his hand on his waist. The white band was a pearl necklace. It stuck in my mind for some reason. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m Mort Candle. This is my associate, Weatherby Stein, and his sister, Selena. We’re looking for information about the murder of Horace Pepperdine,” I said. “You got anything you’d like to add?”

He waved his hand. “He built on land that was taboo. He got what was coming to him.”

“Kapu, you mean?” Selena asked.

Big Joe smiled. “You know some of our customs, little lady?”

“I’m an anthropology student, Mr. Lono,”   Selena explained. “Now, Mr. Pepperdine was murdered by an Aumkua, of the mano variety. I’m sure you have a variety of Aumkua tiki idols, and perhaps quite of few them are vengeful and cursed.”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Maybe one or two got stolen, or taken home to good families. I don’t keep track of the Aumkua, little haole.” The pearl necklace rattled when he moved his arm. “I’m sorry, detectives, but that’s about all I can tell you. I gotta get back to my people.” He turned away, without saying another word.

Selena, Weatherby and I exchanged a glance. “Do you believe he’s speaking truthfully?” Weatherby wondered.

“No idea. There’s something about him that’s raising my instincts. They got me through France in one piece, so I’m trusting them now.” I nodded to the woodie. “Let’s go back to the Grand Tiki and keep the grieving widow advised of our progress. It’s getting dark anyway. I don’t want to be out here at night.”

We headed back to Selena’s automobile and got inside. She started it up and put us back on the winding country road, then started heading back to Honolulu. Selena drove us around the long, lazy curves of the road. Above us, the sun was slowly sinking, bathing the sky in fantastic bands of pastel color. Weatherby and Selena stared at the sunset in amazement.

“It’s swell around here,” Selena said. “But I still think the land around Castle Stein was some of most beautiful I have ever seen. Do you remember when we got up early to see the sun rising over the Black Forest?”

“I remember sitting on father’s lap, just watching the sky going bright. It was absolutely amazing,” Weatherby agreed. “You were right next to me, staying close to keep away the morning chill.” He fell silent.

“Do you…do you miss them?” Selena asked.

“Every day,” Weatherby replied softly.

I stared out the window, watching the trees, occasional cabin and farm speed past. I noticed a swarm of green leaves and fallen flowers following us, kicked up by the wind of the passing car. But they weren’t settling down, just flying along through the air, right after our auto, like they were trying to catch up. I glared at the bright flowers and leaves as they dipped and dived in the air. There were more of them than usual, a blizzard of greenery swarming in from all sides.

“Oh no,” Selena whispered, turning on the windshield wipers and hitting the gas. “Kapua! Of the Ko-Poe-Kino-Lau variety!”

“What?” I asked, as a humanoid shape formed in the swirl of swarming leaves and jumped for the front of the car. It crashed down on the hood, hands made of thorns scratching deep grooves in the windshield. Its eyes were bright red flowers, flashing angrily at Selena as she struggled to keep the car on the road. I kicked open the door, going for my automatics as I put a foot on the runners.

“Kapua are trickster demons, nasty minor deities!” Selena explained. “The Ko-Poe-Kino-Lau are spirits with leaf bodies!” The leaf demon smashed down on the windshield again, denting the glass. Arcane strength was in those spindly limbs.

I leveled my .45 at the leaf man and opened fire. My first shot cracked through his head, sending the flowers and leaves scattering away to cover the windshield. The wipers removed them, and Selena had to poke her head out of the window to see where she was going in the meantime. The auto bucked crazily as it neared the edge of the road, and Selena spun the wheel like a mad woman. I saw Weatherby draw out his own revolver.

“I can’t see!” Selena cried. “Oh god, but I have to speed up to get away from these devils!”

“Keep going and keep on the road!” I shouted. “I’ll keep them off of you!”

“I don’t know if I can—” Selena swerved the wheel again. She slammed the front bumper into a roadside sign and sent the flimsy wooden board flying into the grass. More of the Kapua were floating around now, held aloft by magical winds, and swooping down to attack. I started firing, hearing the automatic bark in my hands. Selena was still panicking. Weatherby was holding her shoulder, keeping her calm. “I just don’t know!” the girl cried. Car chases and leaf demons – this wasn’t her world.

“You’ve just got be strong,” I said. “As strong as your baby brother.”

The Kapua started to mass in front of us, preparing for a major attack. My automatic was empty, so I tossed it back in the car and pulled my second gun from the holster. “Gun it!” I shouted to Selena, and she slammed on the gas. I put the bullets where I wanted them, firing fast and planting shots between the flowery eyes of the Kapua. They burst like overstuffed piñatas, spreading leaves and greenery across the road. There were still dozens of them, flying in front of us and blocking the way.