“Come along, Biff,” his father said. “Police want to talk to us.”
Li tagged along, the deep brown eyes in his bronze face wide with curiosity.
“I’m Thomas Brewster, Chief. And this is my son, Biff. Has Dr. Weber been found?”
“No, Mr. Brewster, unfortunately not.”
“But it is Dr. Weber you want to see us about?”
“In a way, yes. Let me explain. An hour ago, we had a call from Wailuku, that’s the capital of the Island of Maui. An emergency case had been brought to the hospital there—a man suffering from a deep stab wound. The man was identified as a certain Juan Tokawto. He has a police record. A minor criminal, in and out of several scrapes, but a bad character. A man for hire.”
“Yes. But what has that to do with me, or my son?” Mr. Brewster asked.
“I’m coming to that, sir. Tokawto was found unconscious. At the time the police called from Wailuku, he was still unconscious, so they hadn’t been able to question him. They did find in his wallet, though, a picture, a small photograph—two photographs, in fact. They identified the man in one of the photos from a picture that appeared on the front page of our Honolulu paper yesterday.”
Chief Kioni Kapatka paused. He apparently enjoyed building up suspense.
“The photograph in our paper was one of you, Mr. Brewster. It appeared the day you spoke at the mining engineers’ meeting.”