"Not precisely," John Quincy admitted. "But last night when I was walking along Kalakaua Avenue with a young woman, somebody took a couple of wild shots at me from the bushes. And when I got home I found this letter waiting."
He handed the epistle to Hallet, who read it with evident disgust, then passed it on to the prosecutor "That doesn't get us anywhere," the captain said.
"It may get me somewhere, if I'm not careful," John Quincy replied. "However, I'm rather proud of it. Sort of goes to show that my detective work is hitting home."
"Maybe," answered Hallet, carelessly.
Greene laid the letter on his desk. "My advice to you," he said, "is to carry a gun. That's unofficial, of course."
"Nonsense, I'm not afraid," John Quincy told him. "I've got a pretty good idea who sent this thing."
"You have?" Greene said.
"Yes. He's a friend of Captain Hallet's. Dick Kaohla."
"What do you mean he's a friend of mine?" flared Hallet.
"Well, you certainly treated him pretty tenderly the other night."