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than four hours. Say around eight this evening.”
    “Very good I assume my men and myself will have free access to the ship for investigative purposes?”
    Commander Shafton nodded reluctantly. “You may not know this, Lieutenant, but I was due to go on leave today. I have a flight to Paris. But if this is a medical matter, then the public health threat would prevent me from going. Personally, I hope you find evidence of a crime.”
    Cobb said nothing for a few moments. Then he leaned forward. “Have your people taken Geiger counters aboard?”
    Shafton was surprised. “Why would they do that?”
    “It appears this ship has recently participated in an excursion to protest the latest French bomb test in the South Pacific. If they wandered inside the security zone for the test, perhaps the ship was contaminated. It is only a suggestion, of course.”
    Shafton stood up and pressed his hands down on the edge of Takamura’s desk. “Why didn’t someone mention this before?”
    Cobb shrugged. “We didn’t know until… recently. It’s the responsibility of the Navy or Coast Guard to keep track of vessels and their travels, I believe. I am just a policeman.”
    Shafton’s face flushed. He released the edge of the desk with an effort and took a step back. “Very well. I’ll take charge of this matter personally. That ship could be contaminating our waters by itself, not to mention whatever was aboard her that caused all those deaths. I’ll expect to see you at the harbor this evening. And I’d like to know whatever you find out about the cause of these deaths.”
    He turned on his heel and walked from the room. The sound of the starch in his uniform was loud compared to the empty silence he left behind. Finally, Chazz broke the silence. “You took that very well.”
    Sergeant Handel cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. “You didn’t mention Dr. Shih’s report, Lieutenant.”
    “No,” Cobb said “Well.” He stood up and stretched “Let’s go downstairs, shall we? We have a little time before you have to go to the airport to pick up Patria and the little one.”
    The records room was in the basement, unattended at the moment. A new file envelope lay on a green table. The envelope was thick and an unattractive orange. The white paper tag labeled it Homicide #234. Cobb hefted it in his hand for a moment before lifting the flap and peering inside. “Very nice,” he murmured, reaching in. He pulled out a handful of passports of various nationalities and fanned them out on the table.
    “What have we here?” He held one up. “Jeffrey Laurel Hudson, American, thirty-two years old.” He held the photo toward Handel “Recognize him?” he asked.
    Handel nodded “The pilot.”
    “Weren’t you there?” Chazz asked Cobb.
    “I was busy driving Mrs. Takamura to the hospital and left the preliminary investigation to Sergeant Handel, who has done a fine job by bringing the log and these passports.” He pawed through the others. “Three Americans. Two French. One Dutch, a Canadian. Very interesting. Who’s the best sailor on the island?” He directed this question at Handel, who shook his head.
    “I’m not sure. I think maybe Sammy Akeakamai’s brother Willard. He works a lot of the yacht charters out of Hanalei.”
    “Okay.” Cobb checked his watch. “Chazz, Aloha 3245 gets in in a few minutes… Are you interested in pursuing this investigation?”
    Chazz showed the edges of his teeth. “You drag me away from an interesting if terrifying dive on the big island, hustle me here in a state plane, tell me we have a mystery with seven deaths, and now you ask me that?”
    “Meet us at Nawiliwili around eight. Scott, why don’t you and I go have a chat with Sammy?”
    Chazz was wondering how he was going to get to the airport when a patrol car pulled up. The officer inside leaned across and rolled down the passenger window. “Dr. Koenig?”
    “Yes?”
    “The lieutenant asked me to take you back