Restless Waters (9 page)

My own stomach turned at the thought.

Kalahiki raised a hand to his forehead, as though he were witnessing the event once again as he spoke. A star sapphire ring on his pinkie finger caught a ray of sun and glittered under its beam like the eye of an angry shark.

“The ocean is so clear that I’ve watched as terrified sharks spiral helplessly down to its floor, the water turning red from the blood pouring out of their veins,” he continued. “It’s not so much the finning itself that kills them. Rather it’s the fact that they’re unable to swim. They become like boats without rudders.”

“What happens to them?” I asked, not really certain I wanted to know.

“They slowly starve to death, unless they get lucky. In which case, they’re quickly ripped apart and devoured by their own brethren. It’s not a pretty picture either way.” A small shudder rippled through him. “But aside from that, the truly disgusting thing is the amount of waste involved. The fins comprise anywhere from one to five percent of their entire body. Think about it. It’s kind of like what your people did to the buffalo when they slaughtered them, took their hides, and left the meat to rot.”

He’d painted the picture vividly enough so that I found the scenario to be truly disturbing. However, there was still one basic problem.

“Horrible as that may be, it’s important to remember
that finning itself wasn’t banned. It was bringing the fins into Hawaii that was stopped,” I reminded him.

Controversy had erupted when the bill first passed. Honolulu used to be the main port where domestic and foreign boats offloaded thousands of tons of fins each year. From here they were then dried, graded, and sent on to Asia. The local fishing industry lost mucho dollars when the ban took effect.

“And I’m telling you that’s a bunch of bull. It’s still going on like gangbusters in Honolulu,” Sammy retorted caustically.

“If that’s true, then why aren’t you reporting this to the National Marine Fisheries Service?” I countered, beginning to have my doubts about the man.

The passage of the bill had not only been popular with the public, but had also garnered national press attention. It was crazy to think that anyone would get involved with something that had been so high profile.

“NMFS? I already have,” Kalahiki responded with a grunt.

“All right, then. I’m sure they must be doing something about it. You know how these agencies work. They probably just aren’t filling you in on the details.”
This
was the big secret I’d been dragged all the way out here for? Great. It was yet another problem that NMFS would end up handling.

But Sammy looked at me grimly and shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. The truth is, I’ve been warned to keep my mouth shut.”

I’d been told the same thing many times. However, it was always when I’d gone against my boss’s wishes while in the midst of a case.

“And why would they do that?” I asked, wondering if he was an inveterate complainer.

“Because there’s too much money at stake. Or is that so
difficult for you to comprehend?” he said bitterly. “It’s gotten bad enough that I’ve even been threatened.”

Sammy annoyed the hell out of me, yet his body language seemed to suggest he was telling the truth. His shoulders drooped and he looked nervously around, as if checking to make sure that we hadn’t been followed. His facial bruises further intensified his glowering expression. I didn’t know whether it was the situation, or Sammy’s demeanor, but I was definitely beginning to feel on edge.

“Do you have any idea who’s threatening you?” I questioned.

“It could be anyone,” he responded with a tense shrug. “I’ve been receiving anonymous phone calls. Why else do you think I’m here? You’re my last hope.” He emphasized his desperation with a short, mirthless laugh.

I might have believed him more if he’d narrowed down the list. But “anyone” took in a whole lot of people. Surely the entire world wasn’t against him.

“Sorry, Sammy. But I’m having a hard time buying this,” I told him.

Kalahiki’s stare was icy as a New York City sidewalk on a cold winter’s day.

“Then you obviously don’t know much about Hawaii. This place is corrupt to the bone. I’m talking every single agency, from the local police department on up.”

I was beginning to think that Sammy was more than a little paranoid; he was pretty much whacked. But it was also evident that he was scared for his life.

“Oahu’s like a fishbowl where everyone knows everyone else. The sleaziness, networking, and payoffs are rampant and in your face,” he ranted. “Not only that, but the politics here are brutal. The intent is to keep the public fat and happy, while making sure they know as little as possible about what’s really going on.”

“Don’t you think you’re getting carried away with all this?” I suggested, trying to inject a note of reality.

“You’re sadly mistaken if you don’t believe that people are being bribed and paid off,” he warned, a note of hysteria edging into his voice. “It’s probably even going on within your own office.”

I chose to brush off the comment. Norm Pryor might be a lot of things—such as a lazy, bureaucratic numbskull. But that didn’t make him corrupt. Hell, I didn’t think he even had the smarts for it.

“This is the federal government you’re talking about,” I pointedly reminded him.

“Yeah, you’re absolutely right. And since when did the federal government become so squeaky clean that they’re above deception?” Kalahiki’s eyes blazed as he glared at me. “For chrissakes, why won’t anybody listen?” he asked in frustration.

“Probably because what you’re saying sounds crazy. Believe me, I know there are plenty of problems. But how can you accuse entire agencies of being corrupt?” I calmly questioned.

“Okay. So maybe it’s not
entire
agencies,” he admitted gruffly. “Just a few key players in Oahu. But that’s more than enough.”

“Those are serious charges,” I responded.

Kalahiki picked up a stone and threw it into the sea, where it instantly disappeared.

“That’s what I feel like, you know. A tiny worthless pebble. Look, I understand that if you want something done, you usually have to do it yourself. But I can’t. Not with this. It’s too big.” Kalahiki’s voice cracked, and his eyes welled up. “Why am I putting my own life at risk if someone like you doesn’t even care? This is unbelievable. It’s as if I’m one of those sharks that’s gotten caught in a net that it can’t get out of.”

With that, Kalahiki turned and began to pound his fist on the coral rock.

“Okay, then. Convince me,” I suggested. “Tell me why anyone in National Marine Fisheries would secretly decide to ignore the shark-finning ban.”

Sammy rubbed his hands against his pants and took a deep breath.

“Think about it. What department does the National Marine Fisheries Service fall under?” he challenged.

“It’s a division within the Department of Commerce,” I automatically said, and then caught myself.

Damn! My mouth fell open as I began to realize what Kalahiki might be getting at.

“That’s right,” he verified with a tight smile. “And just how does the Department of Commerce make its money?”

“Through the exploitation of natural resources,” I responded.

Which is exactly what the National Marine Fisheries Service is supposed to protect,
I thought, filling in the blanks as a mental lightbulb went on.

“Exactly. Now you’re beginning to get the picture,” Sammy confirmed. “We’re talking about one very schizoid agency. What do you think would happen to a senior-level manager who went to his boss and said, ‘Excuse me, sir. But turtles, birds, and sharks are being caught in longliner nets. We’ve kept a lid on it so far, but we don’t want to continue to hurt the poor things. Something will have to be done about it.’”

I laughed to myself, having a pretty good idea.

“He’d be out on his ass so fast that your head would spin,” Sammy said, not waiting for a response. “No way is the Department of Commerce going to let anyone ruin a multi-million-dollar business. In other words, the commercial fishing industry.”

Sammy was right about one thing. Industrial fishing
had been strip-mining the oceans for years, essentially wiping out ninety percent of large fish, and imperiling commercially valuable species. Even so, they continued to be protected, and suffered very little consequence.

“That does present one hell of a conflict of interest,” I agreed.

“You damn well better believe it. So now tell me. How can National Marine Fisheries protect marine life
and
defend the fishing industry at the same time? I’ll answer the question for you. They don’t. Whatever information I give them goes right into a black hole.”

“I think you’re overstating it,” I responded. “Certainly there are biologists within NMFS who care about the resource.”

“Yeah. Except they’re working for an agency that’s skewed toward industry,” Sammy countered. “They also get pressured by Hawaii’s high-powered politicos.”

If that were true, then it was the same old story. It all came down to a matter of job security. And it was well known what happened to whistleblowers.

“My bosses don’t want to hear about any protected species interactions with longliners. Why?” Sammy held up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “Because the last thing they intend to do is cause the fishing industry any more harm. Longliners raked in well over a million dollars a year in Hawaii when shark finning was legal,” Kalahiki revealed. “Why do you think that even NMFS fought against the ban?”

“But I’d always heard that fins were given to the crew as a bonus, and that their sale amounted to little more than beer money,” I responded.

“Sure. That’s exactly what the industry wanted the public to believe. But the truth is a far different story. As for those boat owners who
did
give the fins to their crew? It was only because they’d hired illegal Filipino workers
who were being paid almost nothing. Shark fins were how their salaries were subsidized without money coming out of the owners’ pockets,” Sammy revealed. “However, that’s just the tip of the iceberg, when it comes to what’s really going on in the trade.”

“Maybe so. But you just said it yourself. All of that took place before finning became illegal,” I once again pointed out.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Sammy agreed. “Things have certainly changed. The trade has now gone underground and turned far deadlier.”

“In what way?” I asked, my curiosity becoming even more aroused. Maybe there actually was something to what Sammy was saying.

Sammy bit off a hangnail and spit it out. “Okay, I’ll give you an example. Do you remember hearing about a guy who was found off Pier 32 the other day?”

I nodded. How could I forget? It’s what had prompted me to take an unplanned drive along the docks yesterday.

“Well, that was Charlie Hong, owner of Pacific Catch Products. Except the only product he ever dealt in was shark fins. And I can assure you that he didn’t go for a swim in his business suit. The other thing I’m convinced of is that Charlie didn’t commit suicide. He was a victim of the shark-fin wars.”

“Do you want to explain what you mean by that?” I asked, having never heard the term before.

“Listen, shark fins are precious as gold. Charlie knew that better than most. After all, he’d been dealing in the stuff for years. In fact, the ban only made his business all the more lucrative.”

What Kalahiki said made sense. It was a well-known fact that the price goes up when a resource becomes rare.

“The thing was that it also made him more greedy. Word has it that Hong tried to corner the market by undercutting
another dealer. That bit of sticky business was resolved by giving Charlie the old heave-ho.” Sammy gleefully swung his arms as though he were tossing a fish off a boat.

The shark-fin trade
had
to be worth big bucks, if people were willing to kill for it.

“But I thought he’d been eaten by a shark,” I responded.

“Who? Charlie? Yeah, he was—once he’d been lying in the water for a couple of hours,” Kalahiki said with a grin.

Funny what brought a smile to his face. This was the happiest I’d seen Sammy since we’d met. I filed away the information to be checked later on. Right now, I wanted to press Kalahiki on more personal matters.

“Tell me. Why was the crew so angry with you yesterday?” I questioned.

Sammy’s eyes grew stormy as a pair of thunder clouds.

“I was an observer on their boat for a couple of weeks. Lots of things went on during that time. I was caught taking pictures they’d rather I hadn’t. Some of the crew got pissed.”

“Pictures of what?” I prodded.

“Oh, of dolphins and sea turtles that were snagged in their lines. Stuff like that,” Kalahiki revealed, in a deliberately nonchalant voice.

The fact that he purposely kept his tone so blase sent up red flags. Something else was going on.

“Is that how you got those bruises?” I asked.

“Yeah, that was part of it,” Sammy admitted, remaining maddeningly vague.

“Then maybe the crew members were also responsible for making those threatening phone calls,” I proposed.

But Kalahiki promptly rebuffed my suggestion. “No. The calls began a few days before this last trip.”

So much for trying to be helpful. I steered the topic back to the bomb that he’d just dropped.

“All right, then. What about the camera and film? Do
you happen to have those with you?” I asked, eager to see if any such photos really existed.

“No. They found the camera in my knapsack and threw it away,” Sammy replied, dashing my hopes.

Damn! I needed some hard-core proof that Kalahiki’s claims were actually true, and he wasn’t just jerking me around. Otherwise, we were back to square one.

“Or at least they thought they did,” he revealed, with a conspiratorial grin.

If the guy had been a Big Mac, I would have pounced on him.

“What do you mean?” I asked, verbally lunging.

“Here’s the thing. Observers are only allowed to take one camera on board. And it has to have been issued by the National Marine Fisheries Service. It’s always one of those cheap disposable jobbers. Well, that’s easy enough to get around,” he disclosed. “I just went out and bought myself an identical model. That way I not only have their piece of junk, but also my own personal click-and-shoot for catching those special Kodak moments. The camera they snatched from me was the authorized version that I use for NMFS’s dog-and-pony show.”