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ago.”
    â€œThe Greek dope thing, you mean?”
    She nodded. “You were shot during that ’Greek dope thing.’ What was it? Bounty hunting?”
    â€œNothing so glamorous, Detective. I got in their way and they got in mine. DEA’s got a file.”
    â€œI’ve read it,” she said. “And I read your life history, according to what they faxed over. I found it fascinating how a federal agency could get tied up with someone like you. But you didn’t answer my question. What exactly do you do for a living?”
    â€œI’m a licensed private eye, but mostly I do protective services. I’m also a diving instructor. That’s on my tax return. Mainly I do favors for friends. Think of me as a retriever.”
    â€œIt makes you sound like a big dog, Mr. Caine, which you are not. Dogs are friendly. Dogs are helpful. Dogs are obedient. Why do I get the feeling you are none of the above? And what are you doing messing around in my homicide investigation?”
    â€œSame thing you are. Trying to find the killers.”
    She flinched. “What makes you think there was more than one?”
    â€œAt least two. And I’d bet on a van. I looked at the Shark Cave yesterday. That’s pretty deserted country up there, but cars pass by at decent intervals. Dumping a body looks like
dumping a body, nothing else. If the person didn’t want to be caught he’d need help.”
    â€œYou’ve read the file.” It was an accusation.
    â€œI have.” I didn’t want to be caught in a lie with this woman.
    â€œThe complete file? Photos? Field notes? Everything?”
    I nodded.
    â€œShit.”
    The consequences of a police file copied and sold to a civilian were immense. I would not have volunteered that I had seen the file, but she’d asked. She got it out into the open like a dog going for a bone. This detective was good. And she was dangerous.
    â€œWhere did you get the idea about the van?”
    I explained my hypothesis, postulated while walking the site.
    â€œIf you’ve seen the file, then you have everything we do.”
    â€œMaybe something you don’t.” And I told her about the private investigator who had died in Makiki, and how it looked like a related homicide. “He was working on this case, following up your own investigation, and he crossed the wrong path. Someone canceled him out.”
    â€œWhat else do you have?”
    â€œSouza’s apartment was thoroughly searched. So was his office. They even kicked holes in the walls and cut a hole in the ceiling a man could crawl through. I’m willing to bet both events took place on the same night. I’d also give you odds that the keys to his office were not among the items inventoried on his person.”
    She nodded, thinking. “Okay, I’ll buy that. Anything else?”
    For some reason the name of Mary’s landlord popped into my mind and a little voice told me to keep it to myself. If Chawlie had a reason to find Thompson interesting, and if Thompson was involved in this case in even a small way, it might be counterproductive to even hint to the police about
him. The information I’d gleaned from the waitress was mere gossip and it was unflattering to Mary’s memory and therefore dangerous to the admiral.
    â€œNot much. I’ve just been on this for a few days.”
    â€œDo you want to tell me where you got the file now, or should I arrest you and have you explain it to my captain?”
    â€œI’ll take my chances with the captain, Detective.”
    Anger smoldered behind anthracite eyes. I could see the steel in them. It was not something I wanted to challenge lightly. “You have no right to a police file, Mr. Caine. Your status won’t protect you. Right now you have admitted at least two felonies to a sworn police officer, and further incriminated yourself by admitting you have read the file. I could get a warrant for