Mana Read Online Free Page B

and having an occasional day at home was not the least of those advantages. Lehua closed her eyes and tried to rough in the first paragraph.
    At first, the Angel Tong story had seemed to come easily. That was perhaps because so little attention had been paid to the festering sore which had been growing on the Big Island, to match the burgeoning development along its coasts. Sometime in the nineties, the small-time crime, the prostitution, the drug dealing, the gambling, began to take on an ominous aspect.
    Sudden deaths in the Island’s underworld were no longer so easily explained as being the aftermath of one pakalolo grower encroaching on another’s territory. A strangled prostitute found in a cane field no longer seemed to be just a streetwalker who had picked up the wrong customer, and a spray of bullets at a cock fight was not merely an expression of anger by a sore loser.
    Lehua probed, and she had friends and relatives scattered over the island who were ideal informants because they were themselves almost invisible: the cane worker, stopping for a smoke and sitting under the fender of his truck away from the glowing tropical sun; the chambermaid, working behind the half open door of a neighboring room; the waiter, overhearing a few snatches of conversation meant only for the ears of a companion across the table.
    The pieces began to fit together. Control of crimes, which had once been petty but had now become major, had slipped into the hands of a group of Chinese. Lehua had broken the name of the group in her most recent article, the Angel Tong. She still needed to fit in the faces.
    She had asked Bill for help. He had grinned and said,
    â€œDon’t ask me. I couldn’t name you three other Chinese on this whole island. Remember? I’m from Milwaukee. In the three years I’ve been here, I’ve spent most of my time climbing over lava flows. I haven’t even eaten in a Chinese restaurant since I got off the plane. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I ate in one anywhere. Deliver me from Chinese food.”
    â€œYou’re sure a big help.”
    Bill smiled, and then his face turned serious. “You know, if I were you I wouldn’t go fooling around with this mob, whoever they are, and especially if they’re Chinese. I’ve heard how their organizations scared the Mafia out of some of the major West Coast cities. They aren’t the kind of people you want to go making enemies of.”
    â€œNot to worry. This isn’t New York City, or even San Francisco. Gangsters don’t pick off reporters just because they’re writing stories about them.”
    â€œMaybe. Maybe not. Anyway, don’t go taking chances. Why don’t you investigate something innocuous like the county council or something?”
    â€œI’m not so sure some of those characters aren’t just as dangerous,” Lehua said with a laugh. “But if it’ll make you happy, I promise. Two more articles on the Angel Tong and I’ll move on to Big Island politics.”
    * * *
    As the information had come in, the articles had grown in size and number. Where she had originally planned a total of three, it now looked like the figure would be five, perhaps more. She hoped that, with luck, she’d be able to keep her promise to Bill. The installment she had to have in by the following morning was a crucial one, just short of naming names, but hinting at who they were. With more luck, the next article after that would fulfill the promise. Captain Silva had guaranteed police protection for one of her informants. Now, all that was needed was a smidgen more of courage on that person’s part. That would come later. There was still tomorrow’s article to write.
    With the outline now sketched out in her mind, Lehua threw off the bed sheet and headed for the shower. By the time she had reheated the coffee left over from their quick breakfast, she knew she could