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examiner. Her eyes, behind rimless glasses, were bright and quizzical. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Koenig.”
    “They did not die of salmonella?”
    “No indeed. They died of something else entirely.”
    “And what is that?” Takamura asked.
    “Respiratory failure. They suffocated.”

FOUR
    JURISDICTION
    Commander Shafton left the Nawiliwili office at three-fifteen, allowing more than enough time to get to Lieutenant Takamura’s office for his three-thirty appointment. The day was fine although too hot, but Shafton paid no attention. He drove with his eyes straight ahead and his hands holding both sides of the wheel in a firm, steady grip. His mouth, too, was firm and steady. His subordinates would have recognized suppressed anger.
    He was a stocky man with firm, steady ways. His eyes, spaced far apart as though to cast his hazel gaze in more than one direction at once, looked out from beneath graying hair that fell in a neatly waved arc over his brows, which were level and black. All in all, he felt he had a commanding presence and was not personally aware that Lieutenant Takamura considered his feet too small.
    He parked precisely on Rice Street and walked the half block to police headquarters.
    Takamura was not in, but was expected to return soon. Commander Shafton went upstairs and found the second floor lounge, where he helped himself to a plastic cup full of coffee and the telephone.
    He spoke for several minutes in quiet tones, glancing from time to time at his watch. He was just hanging up when Takamura appeared at the head of the stairs, followed by Sergeant Handel and another man Commander Shafton did not know.
    “As I told you,” Shafton said before Cobb could speak, “The
Ocean Mother
is being towed to Nawiliwili. There’s a storm out there, and Kalalono is no place for a ship that size in bad weather.”
    Cobb raised an eyebrow. “‘Heavy disappointment causes my heart to sag.’ Your tow will cause problems for any ongoing investigation. It would have been better to leave the vessel alone; there may be evidence on board.”
    If Commander Shafton recognized the quote from Charlie Chan he gave no sign. He was singularly immune to sarcasm. Irony belonged to a different universe entirely. “There was no sign of crime— unless you know something I don’t.” Commander Shafton was so smoothly shaven that he appeared almost sexless. Cobb knew that in fact Shafton shaved twice a day and just now exuded the faint but unmistakable aroma of English Leather. The smoothness of his skin was matched by the smoothness of his tone.
    “In fact, all seven victims died of asphyxiation. They stopped breathing. I do not believe these could be called natural deaths.” Cobb opened his office door and ushered the others inside.
    “Now Commander, we must find an accommodation with one another. We probably have a crime on our hands. It is within our territorial limits, since it was discovered on a ship grounded on Kauai soil. The ship, however, may be declared derelict, although we could not say it was exactly abandoned by its captain and crew.”
    “That may be a debatable point,” Commander Shafton agreed softly. “But they are all dead. There is no more formal abandonment than that. We are not concerned at the moment with rights of salvage, though, but with safety of shipping in coastal waters. That is my responsibility. Precedent suggests the Coast Guard should be conducting the investigation prior to a determination of criminal activity. Lieutenant, you overstepped your bounds when you authorized the removal of the bodies off that ship.”
    “Commander, those bodies were past rigor mortis. These are the subtropics, and decomposition was imminent. There was some urgency.”
    “I will allow it to pass. But we will take charge from now on. I am willing to allow your department to observe pending proof of crime.”
    “Very well. When do you expect the ship to arrive at the harbor?”
    “It shouldn’t take more