"That's my concern." I tightened up. "Then it's agreed?"
"It's a deal."
Corky and I shook hands on murder.
"How do you want her killed? Do you want her knifed? Poisoned? Shot? A pistol or a shotgun? Do you want her strangled, or maybe drowned in the ocean?"
Corky was tired. "I've had plenty of time and I've thought of a million ways to do it." He rubbed his forehead. "I just want her killed."
I couldn't resist teasing him. "I can put a bomb on this boat. A quarter pound of dynamite's about as big as a stick of butter. Goes by the gas tank. That would be enough. Or I can use more and what's left of the boat can fit in the trunk of your car."
"Not my boat, please. Besides, I don't want anybody killed but my wife."
"How do you want it to look? Accidental? Suicide? Do you want this to look like a robbery? Murder by persons unknown? Is there anybody you want to pin it on? Make it look like they did it?"
"I just want her dead. I don't want anybody getting framed for something they didn't do. I couldn't face myself in the mirror if somebody innocent gets busted for her death."
"Nobody's innocent any more."
"You wouldn't say that if you had grandchildren."
"You take drugs? How about your wife?"
Corky was annoyed. "No!"
"That takes care of overdoses. How strong is she? She is going to be an unwilling victim."
"She's a strong woman. She'll put up a pretty good fight."
"By the way, do you want her raped?"
"Are you serious?"
I shrugged. "It costs extra."
Corky guillotined twenty-five years of memories. "I'll leave it up to you." His conscience winced, but he rode over it. "The only thing that's important is my alibi is fool-proof. As long as I'm in the clear--"
"Where do you want her whacked? At home, maybe?"
"Maybe. It's private enough. The neighbors aren't very close. And she does spend a lot of time there alone."
"D'you mind if there's a lot of blood?"
"I don't care about the carpets!"
I stopped Corky from venting his anger. "Where do you want the body? Should I leave her where I kill her?"
Corky wrinkled his brow. "Oh god!"
I was fussy. "Do you want her buried, or do you want her coming in with the tide?"
"Leave her where you kill her. I'd like to have the body found as soon as possible and everything resolved as soon as possible."
Flea and I stood alongside a white plank fence looking over Corky's ranch. From the look of things, the Hawaiian had enough money to afford me killing his wife.
"Seen enough?" Flea asked.
I woke up. "Yeah."
We hiked back to the Mustang.
"How come you're doing this?" Flea asked.
"They call it fuck-you money," I said absently. "Once you got enough of it, you can walk away from anything."
We cruised down the Hana Highway. A pickup truck came up from behind, cut in front of us, barely missed us and shot off down the highway, then disappeared around the next curve.
I shook my head. "That asshole's got a lead foot. Brains to match, too."
Flea stared after the pickup. "That was Corky Collins. That's his truck that passed us."
I hit the gas pedal.
The pickup truck drove along the Hana Highway. We stayed a quarter mile behind him.
Corky's truck turned off the highway onto a red dirt road that led inland. He took the red dirt road deep into the rainforest. The sunlight disappeared in a canopy of leaves and branches. Then his truck disappeared around a series of curves.
I took the curves slowly, came around the last curve, and I found myself overlooking a church camp deep in a canyon. The church camp was mostly summer cottages and cabins for children. Tires on swings and outdoor barbecue grills. A softball diamond was beyond an empty swimming pool.
I stared out the windshield at the church camp.
"How come it's deserted?"
"They don't come until later in the summer."
I backed up, then hid the Mustang behind some large bushes. I grabbed a pair of binoculars from the travel bag in the back seat. Flea and I left the Mustang and disappeared into the rainforest. We found Corky had parked his pickup truck behind the last cabin.
A minute later we reached the cabin. A minute later we were watching Corky through the back window of the cabin. He was pacing up and down and chain-smoking. A pile of mattresses was stacked in one corner of the cabin. The rest of the cabin was empty.
Another car came down the red dirt road to the cabin where Corky waited. A woman--the attractive woman with the dead as a doornail eyes I had seen behind the cash register at the bowling alley--left her car, slamming the door behind her, and entered the cabin where Corky was waiting. There, she embraced and kissed Corky.
He pulled away, irritated with her.
Corky was angry. "Damn you, Debra!"
Debra got panicky. "What's wrong?