Diamond Head by Charles Knief Page B

display. Someone had called while I was in Chinatown. I pushed the Play button.
    â€œMr. Caine, this is Detective Katherine Alapai, Honolulu Police Department. We want to interview you regarding the death of one Garrick Choy. I need to know how you were involved in this. Call me for an appointment. You have the number.
    â€œBring a lawyer, if you feel you need one.”

 
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    15
    T his is Katherine Alapai, homicide detective, Honolulu Police Department, interviewing John Caine.” She stated the date and time and the fact that we were in her office at the main Honolulu police station. She had me repeat my name, age, address and occupation. This time I said I was a private detective, working for the family of a murder victim. It had a nice official ring to it. If this thing got nasty, I wanted everything on tape to sound official.
    â€œMr. Caine, are you aware that this conversation is being recorded?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œAnd you have consented to the recording of this conversation?”
    â€œI have.”
    â€œAnd are you waiving counsel at this time?”
    â€œI am.”
    Katherine looked at me, her black eyes penetrating my feigned nonchalance. I was reminded we were not playing games.
    â€œMr. Caine, can you tell me your relationship to the deceased?”
    â€œWho?”

    â€œMr. Garrick Choy.”
    â€œI never met him.”
    â€œNever?”
    â€œNot once that I’m aware.”
    â€œAre you aware that Mr. Choy worked for CAT Productions?”
    I hesitated, reviewing my options. I decided that she would not have asked the question unless she already knew the answer.
    â€œYes,” I said.
    â€œAnd what is your relationship with CAT Productions, CAT Enterprises or Carter Allen Thompson?”
    â€œI met Mr. Thompson three days ago in his office downtown. It was the first and only time we’ve met. My meeting with him lasted approximately three minutes. I have not seen him since.”
    Please don’t ask the question, I thought.
    â€œWhat did you discuss with Mr. Thompson during your meeting?”
    Thank you.
    â€œI am looking into the death of Mary MacGruder, a young lady who lived with Mr. Thompson. I thought he could help.”
    â€œHave you spoken with him since?”
    Damn!
    â€œYes,” I said. “Last night. He called me.”
    â€œWhat did he want?”
    â€œHe wanted me to come to his office. I refused.”
    â€œYou refused?”
    â€œYes.” I wouldn’t give her any more than she asked for. I had too much respect for her intuition and abilities.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI didn’t want to.” If she kept at it, her questioning would begin to resemble that of a precocious three-year-old.
    â€œCare to elaborate?”
    â€œNo.”

    She angrily snapped off the recorder.
    â€œGod damn you, Caine!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou’re not telling me anything!”
    â€œWhat do you want to know?”
    â€œI want to know why that young man was murdered. You know! I know you know! And I know you had something to do with it!”
    â€œMaybe I should call my lawyer,” I said.
    â€œDo you think you need one?”
    â€œNow you stop it,” I said. “You know I didn’t kill that kid.”
    â€œI know you have the MacGruder file, and I know that you and I discussed Thompson four days ago, and I know that last night the kid was dead. He worked for Thompson. I know that three days ago you had a meeting with Thompson in his office, and immediately after that you got into a brawl with two of his men in the municipal garage. We followed you and watched you hurt those men. I know you’ve contacted Garrick Choy’s father, both before and after he was murdered. You’re into this up to your neck.
    â€œThat boy was tortured before he was killed. The medical examiner told me this afternoon that he had been kept alive for twenty-four hours before they killed him and