Neil Plakcy - Mahu

We told our stories over and over again during the next couple of days, as my brother orchestrated the reports on his TV station, and those that followed on other stations and in the newspapers, to make me into the hero of the hour.

Derek was arrested in the early morning hours on Thursday, and not surprisingly, Uncle Chin stepped forward to organize his defense. It had made things a little touchy between him and my father, but they both believed in making the necessary sacrifices for your family’s sake, so I thought they’d come out of it okay.

It was interesting to see how the media treated Tommy Pang and Evan Gonsalves. From “a prominent Honolulu businessman” Tommy became “a local underworld kingpin,” a description I’m sure he would have relished.

Evan was officially cleared of Tommy’s death, though the department stopped short of calling him a martyr. Even though there was suspicion that he had been both a snitch and a blackmailer, a plaque bearing his name was ordered for the front wall at headquarters, where people often left memorial leis for officers killed in the line of duty.

I learned that Akoni had passed on to Peggy what Gunter had told me, that Derek and Wayne had been buying stolen Hawaiian artifacts and shipping them through the pack and ship, forcing Jimmy Ah Wong to forge the paperwork. He told me she wasn’t very happy that I’d been the one to break the case.

My suspension hearing was held on the Monday morning following Wayne’s death. I got up early and surfed for an hour, then went home and showered. I was about to put on my one good suit when I changed my mind and decided to wear my uniform. I was a cop, after all, and if I was going to end my career I wanted to end it in the uniform that had always made me proud.

Lieutenant Yumuri and Hiram Lin were waiting for me in that same conference room at the main station on South Beretania. There was another man there, too, a Lieutenant from the Special Investigations Section whom I recognized but didn’t know.

The DA himself was at the hearing, but Peggy Kaneahe was not. The Honolulu County District Attorney was a half-Chinese man with the unlikely name of Peter Furst, and he began by announcing that because of ADA Kaneahe’s personal relationship with me she had been removed from the case. He went on to apologize to me, personally, saying he had been unaware of the relationship, and that he was investigating to make sure that no department policies had been breached.

Hiram Lin beamed as if he was announcing a newborn grandson. Furst continued, “As a result of my office’s investigation, I have found that it was appropriate for the Department to suspend Detective Kanapa‘aka while his personal involvement in the criminal investigation was reviewed.” This was it, I thought. The beginning of the end.

“Further, we find that while he may have exhibited questionable judgment in the initial stages of the investigation, that his practices were sound and followed department procedures.”

I looked at Yumuri and, to his credit, he held my gaze for a minute, and then looked away. Despite his attitudes and problems, I didn’t bear any grudges against him. He was a good cop and a good boss.

“In light of the publicity surrounding this case, and Detective Kanapa‘aka’s unique qualifications, an administrative decision has been made to reassign him. Lieutenant Sampson?”

He turned to the lieutenant from Special Investigations. He was a big man, broad-shouldered, with a salt and pepper beard. “I’m aware of your record in Waikiki, Detective, as well as the good things Lieutenant Yumuri has had to say about you. I’ve requested that you be transferred to headquarters to work as a detective in my unit.”

He stood up and began to walk around the room. “Sometimes I think we’re fighting a losing battle out there. The criminals come up with new crimes every day, and it seems that every new crime that passes my desk is bloodier and more violent than the one before it. We need sharp detectives more than ever.”

He stopped and leaned against the round concrete column. “More is demanded of us every year. We’re not just here to chase the bad guys, but to help the good guys as well. I think your,” and he paused for a second, “sensitivity, to people who might not get a fair shake otherwise, will be important to us, and valuable.”

No one else was saying anything. “It won’t be easy,” Sampson said. “There’ll undoubtedly be units, and individual officers, who won’t think you ought to be a cop. That’s a battle you’ve got to be prepared to fight, although I want you to know I’ll be in your corner.” He paused. “You may not be comfortable continuing on the force given all your recent notoriety. I wouldn’t blame you if you decided it was time for a change in your life. I don’t expect you to make up your mind immediately, but I’d like a response within forty-eight hours. There has been a lot of pressure to get your situation resolved, and I want to be able to relieve some of that pressure.”

It was clearly my turn to talk by then. “I appreciate everything you’ve said, Lieutenant. You’re right, there are some things I need to change in my life. But my career as a detective is not one of them. I’d be honored to work with you, and I’m prepared to return to active duty as soon as you need me.”

Sampson smiled. “I needed you last week.” Then his smile died. “I’ve discharged my weapon four times in the line of duty, Detective. I can still remember each one of those times. I was walking past the Iolani Palace two years ago when I saw a man come out of the post office with a sawed off shotgun in his right hand. His left arm was around a woman’s neck. I identified myself as a police officer and told him to drop the weapon and let the woman go.” He looked at all of us. “He refused, and fired at me. I shot once and killed him.”

No one in the room said anything. Finally Sampson said, “It took me quite a while to get over that, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget what I felt. You may not know it, Detective, but you need a few more days, especially now that this hearing is over. Think about it, and then call me.”

I saluted him, and he saluted me back. I was a cop again.

Afterwards, Yumuri came up to me. “I expect we’ll continue to work together,” he said. “You know how I feel, but I believe there’s no discipline in a force unless we all agree to follow our orders. You shouldn’t expect anything less than that from me or the men in my command.”

“I appreciate that, sir,” I said.

After the hearing, I drove up to my parents’ house to tell them the news, as I had promised them. My father hadn’t gone to the office; he said he’d have been too worried to concentrate on anything. “Good news?” my mother said when she opened the door.

“I got my job back.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek. My father came up behind her. “They’re reassigning me to downtown. But I’ll still be a detective.”

“I knew they wouldn’t be able to let you go,” my father said.

“How about some iced tea?” my mother asked. “I’ll get some.”

“The lieutenant who would be my new boss told me there’s been a lot of pressure to resolve my situation,” I said, as my father and I walked into the living room. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Me? How would I know anything?”

I pointed to a framed picture of my father with the former mayor of Honolulu, an old friend from UH. “Just wondering.”

“I may have made some calls. Most people I know are old, like me. Not much influence any more.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” I paused. “I do appreciate it, you know, Dad. You going out on a limb for me with your friends. I know it probably wasn’t easy for you.”