police don’t?”
“Not if he stays within the law,” I said.
BReAk-iN
“Long as we’re out here,” Ray said. “Suppose we stop by Aunty Edith’s house again, make sure Leelee’s doing OK? I’m worried about her and that kid.”
“You have a soft heart,” I said. “But you’re driving. Go to town.”
Leelee answered the door and said, “I was just gone call you.
You must be psychic or something, like on the TV.”
“Yeah?” Ray asked. “What’s up?”
“Somebody buss up Aunty Edith’s room.”
Leelee was once again balancing that dirty little boy on her hip. “I went into Aunty Edith’s room this morning, ‘cause she had some toys for baby. It all buss up. I couldn’t call you till Dex left for work, though. He don’t like no pilikia, ‘specially not with police.”
“Can we take a look?”
She shrugged. As we walked alongside the house to Aunty Edith’s door, we established that the break-in had to have occurred sometime between Saturday afternoon, when we’d looked at the room, and six that morning, when the baby began crying.
Leelee pulled a faded plastic card from her pocket and slid it between the door and the jamb. “We lost the key long time ago,”
she said, as the door popped open. “Old credit card work just as well. Ain’t got no credit anyway.”
Edith’s mattress had been taken off the bed and sliced open; the same for her pillows. Her clothes were strewn on the floor, along with cheap paper fans, plastic leis and stuffed animals she must have used to amuse the baby.
Her small desk had been loaded with papers on Saturday, but most of them were gone. All the pictures had been taken down 50 Neil S. Plakcy
from the walls, and the photo albums were gone, too.
“Dat ice,” Leelee said. “Da kine ice head always breaking in places. Somebody knew Aunt Edith wen maki , they come steal anything she left.” The baby started crying again, and she jiggled him on her hip as she headed back to her own door.
“You think it was ice?” Ray asked when she was gone. We saw lots of crimes committed by people hooked on ice, the smokable form of crystal meth, but it didn’t look like an addict had broken into Aunty Edith’s. I shook my head.
“Me neither,” Ray said. “The burglar was looking for something.”
“Something we should have found when we were here Saturday.” I remembered the piles of papers and photos. What had been valuable there? What would someone be willing to kill for?
“Maybe, maybe not.” Ray pulled out a pair of rubber gloves.
“Let’s see if there’s anything left.”
The folders Edith had kept next to the desk were gone, along with all the newspaper clippings and copies of official documents.
The only papers left were a scattering of grocery coupons and some pages from a child’s story book.
“Let’s analyze this,” Ray said. “The thief took all her pictures, all that paperwork she had saved. And then went looking for something more. What do you think it was?”
“No idea.”
“Why take all those photographs?” Ray asked. “You know this place, this culture. You remember any of them?”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. “I thought they were family pictures. Some were those square, sepia-toned ones like we have of my parents as kids.”
“So somebody wanted those pictures,” Ray said. “Why?”
“Because of who’s in them?”
“Any way those old pictures could be valuable?”
MAhu BLood 51
“I suppose you could take them out to the Aloha Bowl flea market and sell them for a nickel or a dime apiece,” I said.
“Somebody decorating a restaurant or looking for instant ancestors. Not really a motive for robbery, much less murder.”
I walked over and looked at the wall. Most of the thumbtacks were still there, along with torn bits that showed the pictures hadn’t been removed carefully.
“Whoever took these was either angry or in a hurry. Maybe she had some newer pictures of those drug dealers she was
“Not if he stays within the law,” I said.
BReAk-iN
“Long as we’re out here,” Ray said. “Suppose we stop by Aunty Edith’s house again, make sure Leelee’s doing OK? I’m worried about her and that kid.”
“You have a soft heart,” I said. “But you’re driving. Go to town.”
Leelee answered the door and said, “I was just gone call you.
You must be psychic or something, like on the TV.”
“Yeah?” Ray asked. “What’s up?”
“Somebody buss up Aunty Edith’s room.”
Leelee was once again balancing that dirty little boy on her hip. “I went into Aunty Edith’s room this morning, ‘cause she had some toys for baby. It all buss up. I couldn’t call you till Dex left for work, though. He don’t like no pilikia, ‘specially not with police.”
“Can we take a look?”
She shrugged. As we walked alongside the house to Aunty Edith’s door, we established that the break-in had to have occurred sometime between Saturday afternoon, when we’d looked at the room, and six that morning, when the baby began crying.
Leelee pulled a faded plastic card from her pocket and slid it between the door and the jamb. “We lost the key long time ago,”
she said, as the door popped open. “Old credit card work just as well. Ain’t got no credit anyway.”
Edith’s mattress had been taken off the bed and sliced open; the same for her pillows. Her clothes were strewn on the floor, along with cheap paper fans, plastic leis and stuffed animals she must have used to amuse the baby.
Her small desk had been loaded with papers on Saturday, but most of them were gone. All the pictures had been taken down 50 Neil S. Plakcy
from the walls, and the photo albums were gone, too.
“Dat ice,” Leelee said. “Da kine ice head always breaking in places. Somebody knew Aunt Edith wen maki , they come steal anything she left.” The baby started crying again, and she jiggled him on her hip as she headed back to her own door.
“You think it was ice?” Ray asked when she was gone. We saw lots of crimes committed by people hooked on ice, the smokable form of crystal meth, but it didn’t look like an addict had broken into Aunty Edith’s. I shook my head.
“Me neither,” Ray said. “The burglar was looking for something.”
“Something we should have found when we were here Saturday.” I remembered the piles of papers and photos. What had been valuable there? What would someone be willing to kill for?
“Maybe, maybe not.” Ray pulled out a pair of rubber gloves.
“Let’s see if there’s anything left.”
The folders Edith had kept next to the desk were gone, along with all the newspaper clippings and copies of official documents.
The only papers left were a scattering of grocery coupons and some pages from a child’s story book.
“Let’s analyze this,” Ray said. “The thief took all her pictures, all that paperwork she had saved. And then went looking for something more. What do you think it was?”
“No idea.”
“Why take all those photographs?” Ray asked. “You know this place, this culture. You remember any of them?”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. “I thought they were family pictures. Some were those square, sepia-toned ones like we have of my parents as kids.”
“So somebody wanted those pictures,” Ray said. “Why?”
“Because of who’s in them?”
“Any way those old pictures could be valuable?”
MAhu BLood 51
“I suppose you could take them out to the Aloha Bowl flea market and sell them for a nickel or a dime apiece,” I said.
“Somebody decorating a restaurant or looking for instant ancestors. Not really a motive for robbery, much less murder.”
I walked over and looked at the wall. Most of the thumbtacks were still there, along with torn bits that showed the pictures hadn’t been removed carefully.
“Whoever took these was either angry or in a hurry. Maybe she had some newer pictures of those drug dealers she was
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