The Last Smythe: Book #1

By Barbara E. Sharp

Using logs, journals, depositions and personal letters from 1844, four diverse friends who live in Maui begin to solve their first Lahaina Mystery. Their methods are often bumbling and unorthodox, but nevertheless quite successful - the amateur sleuths hunt down a multiple murderer. In the process, they discover the amazing story of the Smythe family's ties to Hawaii and their well kept secret.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara E. Sharp
• Release date: Mar 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452354989

Barbara E. Sharp

The Lahaina Mystery Series by Barbara E. Sharp Ten years as Research Director of The Lahaina Restoration Foundation, reading archival microfilms, entering 3,000 pages of history into the computer, writing historical articles for the local newspaper and speaking to community groups, has culminated in the writing of seven mystery novels. The stories follow the adventures of a diverse group of friends who live and work in modern-day Lahaina where they find themselves involved in murder, mayhem and history. The books are fast reads with lots of humor and action as the amateur sleuths use historical research, sting operations, surveillance and their unique talent for deducing. The action centers mostly in and around historic Lahaina town, occasionally in upcountry Maui and at Hana during an archaeological dig. Local residents and visitors from all over the world will recognize locations and the historical sites, that are included in the context of the stories.

Book preview

The Last Smythe

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A Lahaina Mystery Novel

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By Barbara E Sharp

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PUBLISHED BY:

Barbara E Sharp on Smashwords

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The Last Smythe

Copyright © 2010 by Barbara E Sharp

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

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This is a work of fiction. Although some Maui locales are real, others are ficticious. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © 2010 by Barbara E. Sharp All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. Except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

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Cover Design and graphics by Steve Sharp

Smashwords Formatting by Graphic Park

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ISBN: 978-1-4523-5498-9

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Smashwords Edition License Notes

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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A Note from the Author

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Several years ago, buried deep in the somewhat boring files of the U.S. Consulate microfilms, I came upon seven depositions that told the story of a young man who was chased and beaten by the local police, and stoned by an out of control mob. This did not happen in a modern-day riot, but in the small seaside town of Lahaina, on the island of Maui, in the mid-1800's. I have used this unusual event in my novel. The depositions are taken word for word from the files. Anson Chandler really was Lahaina's Consul at the time, and Mr. Gilman was the owner of the Chandlery Shop. With these exceptions, the story, and all the rest of the characters, past and present, are fictitious

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CHAPTER 1.

Part I: The Mainland Connection

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Ello, Meester Anderson?

This could only be Helen, Ben thought, no one else was that bad at faking an accent. So, she's back home at last. He moved his cell phone to the other ear, opened the car door, and headed towards the old Lahaina Courthouse.

Yes, this is Ben Anderson. How can I help you?

I am veesiting from Madrid, and was told by a mutual friend, here on Maui, that you might be available for deener thees evening.

How delightful to have a mysterious woman request my company, just at a time when I was feeling lonely and sad.

Lonely and sad, you say? Why ees that?

You know, I can't even remember why, since I heard your sultry voice. Shall we meet at Kimo's, say around seven? How will I know you?

I weel be wearing a red strapless gown and an orchid een my hair. Adios, unteel we meet tonight.

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Helen was quite pleased with herself and her little joke, although it was a bit worrisome that Ben might not have recognized her voice. He wouldn't actually go out to dinner with a strange woman - would he?

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Helen and Ben met three years ago, much to their mutual surprise. Both were divorced with grown children, and each had come to Maui to start new lives, but not necessarily new romances.

In his former life Ben had been an airline pilot, married and living in Denver, until one horrific flight, when passenger #93 turned out to be a highjacker. A terrorist! Ben had flown the nut half way around the world until the terrorist accidentally shot himself in the leg. None of the passengers or crew were injured or killed, thankfully, but the experience left most of them emotionally scarred.

When the plane finally landed in the U.S. and debriefings were over, he was able to head home to Denver for some well-needed rest. As he opened the front door he shouted to his wife: Honey I'm home. There was silence, then: Oh, Ben, I didn't expect you so soon.

Well, the details really don't matter, Ben had suspected for some time that she had a lover. Three months later he left for Maui, alone, to start a new life.

Helen's reasons for leaving her home near Seattle weren't near as dramatic as Ben's. For her it was more a case of boredom, caused by several events in her life converging at one time. Her children were grown and living on their own, the cat died, and the coffee store sold. After five years as owner/partner of the only gourmet coffee store in her small town near Seattle, Helen and her partner and best friend Dolores, sold their business to a chain of espresso cafes that made them an offer too good to pass up.

Never one to give in to a bad situation for long, Helen decided that since she was free of responsibilities, she would shrug off the gloom of boredom and have a new adventure for herself - she would pack up and move to a tropical island!

Maui, the second largest island in the Hawaiian chain, is 2500 miles from Seattle. It is 48 miles long and 26 miles wide, located South of the Tropic of Cancer and North of the Equator, right in the middle of the Pacific Ocean's azure seas. Known as the Valley Isle, it is topped with lush green mountains that are surrounded with miles of white sandy beaches - a paradise of verdant valleys and lush tropical growth. But even in this paradise, transplants from the mainland can get island fever, or become terminally homesick and lonely, or succumb to boredom.

None of this is a problem for Helen - the diversity of Maui deters island fever, and her job at RAPS takes care of the boredom, while frequent visits with her family keeps homesickness at a minimum. As for loneliness - who could be lonely with Ben and Mambo in their life?

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Kimos restaurant has been in the same old historic building on Front Street for 25 years, sitting on the former location of the Fujimura Garage and Service Station. It is said that the old storage area beneath the garage is now a wine cellar.

Tonight, as Ben waited for Helen to arrive, the rich paneled walls of the restaurant were aglow with golden light from the sun's big finale. He chose a table on the deck, reserved especially for his mysterious date.

Meester Anderson?

Hearing her voice made Ben's heart lurch - my God how he had missed her. Ah, the mysterious Spanish lady, you are even lovelier than I had imagined you to be. Allow me to kiss your hand and your wrist and shoulder, then your . . .

Not here, you fool, people are staring. Perhaps later?

Where's your red satin strapless dress? You know, the one I was to recognize you by? Ben asked, as he pulled Helen's chair back.

So, you were turned on by the mysterious Spanish lady. Well, sorry buster, but your date tonight is with an American dame in white slacks and Hibiscus flowered shirt.

Yes, so I see. Ben said. I will have to forego my fantasy of tango dancing with rose-in-teeth and running with the bulls.

Pah! Running with the bulls, you say? Child's play! Tango? For the elderly! Stick with me kid and you'll replace that fantasy with one more suitable for a red-blooded manly man.

Ben grinned. Wow, I guess I'm stuck with you kid.

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I said stick with me, kid. Good grief that does translate to mean you're stuck with me? Blast! Every time I try to get romantic I blow it.

Ben raised his wineglass. A toast to my romantic friend - I have missed you so much! It seems like you've been gone for months instead of weeks, my dear. How was the Pacific Northwest, the family and all your friends?

Fine, Ben, all of them were great. The weather was perfect, and the whole family was there, all three children, spouses and several grandchildren.

Several? Have you lost count?

No, there are only two, just the little boys, who are seven and eight now. All in all I had a wonderful time. What have you been up to - keeping strange foreign women entertained, perhaps? Or have you been too busy checking on the Visitor Information Centers?

The latter. My job is great! Not only do I get to meet interesting visitors, but I get to work in Lahaina and I get to visit Hana and Kihei every month.

As dinner was served, Ben told Helen about a frightening experience that he'd had with a flat tire on the way home from Hana last week. Of the six hundred hairpin turns on the Hana road, Ben guessed it was on about the 300th, in the middle of nowhere. Helen was transfixed as he described the blind curve, sheer drop off, and the proximity of his butt to passing traffic as he bent to jack up the van.

Good Grief, Ben, I can't think of a worse place to have a flat!

I'll drink to that. Ben said, taking a sip of wine."

How are things doing at the Kihei Visitor's Center?

We're in big trouble there, Helen, the old library building, which has been our home for the past two years has been designated a homeless shelter by the County. We have a week to get out, so the volunteers and I have been busy putting the brochures and merchandise in storage, and searching for a new location - with no luck so far. But enough of this serious talk, it's time for romance. Let's head to your place, we'll have a fun time together, just the three of us: you and me and Mambo.

Mambo hates it when you take up half the bed, Ben, he'd rather sleep outside.

Good.

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CHAPTER 2.

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Mambo the cat became Helen's roommate three years ago when she saved his life. He was a kitten at that time, belonging to no one in particular - just a stray, hanging around a local restaurant that was built around a large tree. As fate would have it, Helen and Ben were sipping gin and tonics in that very place, unaware that the small kitten was napping in a bowl of matches on the back-bar, when suddenly the restaurant Manager flew into a rage. He yelled at the bartender: I told you to get rid of that damned rodent!

When Helen realized the rodent he referred to was a beautiful black kitten, she marched over to the bowl of matches, scooped him into her arms, gave the Manager a disgusted look, and left, taking Mambo to his new home.

Mambo's life with Helen is good - great food to eat, a patio filled with lizards and butterflies, lots of bushes to hide in, endless surf to watch, and a big double bed to sleep on. Of course he has to share it with Helen, but that's okay, she doesn't take up much room. However, when Ben stays over, like he did last night, Mambo opts for a night of mouse hunting out under the stars. He had a very good night - bagged two rodents, which he proudly left near the patio door. Exhausted after his night of hunting, plus a session of pre-dawn bird watching, he curled up on top of the storage shed for a nap.

Helen, at her desk in the living room, rewound the tape on her answering machine, something she had been putting off since she got back home. There were several messages from friends: Bety Erickson describing a newly discovered gift shop in Makawao; Hillary, who got the giggles and was generally not understandable, and Mrs. Sylva, who yelled at the machine as if it was a deaf human. The last message was from a stranger named Nacho, requesting information about Captain Smythe, a whaler, who visited Lahaina in 1844.

As the Research Director/Historian at the Research and Preservation Society, known as RAPS, Helen frequently receives requests for historical information. Nacho left no return number just said he would call back later.

Unable to resist the fresh cool Hawaiian morning, Helen quickly threw on her jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers, let Mambo in, and headed up the beach to Lahaina. Gentle waves lapped up on the hard packed sand along the half-mile trek from her beach house to the south end of town.

Street lamps were still softly glowing in the semi darkness - that peaceful time just before the sun peeks over the tops of the West Maui Mountains. When this awesome event happens, sunlight hits the top of the island of Lanai, nine miles to the west, turning it a deep rosy pink. Then, as the sun rises higher, the blush of rose spreads down to the sea, and the whole island glows pink for a few minutes as the day breaks.

On this Sunday morning Front Street was nearly vacant, only a few early morning runners and local fishermen along the seawall - a quiet time when Lahaina seemed caught in a time warp. Helen could easily picture life here during the Plantation Era; the days of horse drawn carts, open fish markets, and steamships at the harbor, bringing an occasional traveler to lodge at the Pioneer Hotel. Those days when the faces of China, Japan, Portugal, and the Philippines smiled a greeting on their way to the bakery or to the Plantation Store for supplies.

Taking a deep breath of fresh morning air, Helen caught a whiff of something new - something besides the scent of the sea, Plumeria flowers and teriyaki. Could it be donuts? The closer she got to Pineapples, her favorite local café, the stronger the mouthwatering smell became.

The restaurant's real name is Take Home Maui, but local residents fondly refer to it as Pineapples. It is owned and operated by the Takamura family, who first came to Maui