Hawaiian Sea Hunt Mystery. Adams Andy
will that call make any difference about your taking us on the trip with you?”
“I don’t know,” his father said slowly. “Dr. Weber’s call puts the whole trip in a new light.”
“Gosh, Dad, Ted’s and Monica’s hearts would be broken.”
Tom Brewster stood up. He went to the door without replying. When he opened it, his two younger children swarmed all over him.
“That call from Honolulu? What was it about?” Ted asked.
“Tell us, tell us!” chirped Monica.
Mrs. Brewster had entered the room. She looked at her husband questioningly.
The twins looked at their father. He ruffled Ted’s hair and patted Monica on the cheek.
“We’re still going, aren’t we?” Monica said in a small, hopeful voice.
“I guess… Yes, we sure are.”
Squeals of delight filled the air. But Mrs. Brewster, reading the expression on her husband’s face, knew that the trip was no longer just a pleasure jaunt for him.
CHAPTER IV
Aloha!
The blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, fourteen thousand feet below, sparkled under the slanting rays of the rising sun. Sleepy-eyed passengers aboard the Northwest airliner yawned, stretched, and brought their reclining seats to an upright position. Two stewardesses hurried back and forth along the aisle of the plane, carrying breakfast trays of chilled pineapple juice, slices of golden yellow papaya, and steaming coffee.
The younger members of the Brewster family, Biff and the twins, had been awake from the time of take-off, although their mother had insisted they try to rest. Mr. and Mrs. Brewster still lay stretched out with their chairs in a reclining position, but now they showed signs of coming out of their fitful sleep.
“How much longer, Biff? How long till we get there? You’ve been to Honolulu before,” Monica said.
“Only for a short stopover on my way to Burma,” Biff replied. He looked at his watch. “I’d say we ought to be there in an hour. Maybe a little longer.”
The Brewster family had boarded the plane at six o’clock that morning, their flight having been delayed on take-off for an hour by a low-hanging bank of fog. The big plane’s four jet engines and a favorable tailwind had pushed it through the sky at a speed of over 600 miles per hour.
Thomas Brewster leaned over the seat in front of him where Ted and Monica were fussing in low tones over whose turn it was to sit next to the window.
“Morning, children.”
“Morning, Dad.”
“My, you’re surely wide awake for such an early hour!” he said.
“Early? Gee, Dad, it’s after ten o’clock,” Ted replied, looking at his wrist watch.
Mr. Brewster laughed. “Guess Ted doesn’t know about setting his watch back. You set yours right, Biff?”
Biff nodded his head.
“What do you mean, set my watch back?” Ted demanded.
“Difference in time, Ted. With daylight-saving time further complicating matters, it’s three hours earlier in Hawaii than it is in Seattle. So, if your watch says ten, then it’s only seven o’clock in Honolulu. People are just getting up there.”
Ted, although still puzzled, turned his watch back three hours.
Biff came to the seat where Ted and Monica both had their noses pressed to the plane’s window.
“Scrunch over, small fry. We’ll be raising Diamond Head soon. Your big brother will point it out to you.”
The plane zoomed through the air, racing the sun to Alohaland. The “Fasten Seat Belts” sign flashed on.
“Won’t be long now,” Biff said. “Ought to see Diamond Head any minute. Look … just over the right wing. See that sort of dark blur? That’s Oahu, the island Honolulu is on.”
Minutes later, Diamond Head rose majestically into view. The plane sped over the yawning crater of the extinct volcano, then bore to the left out over Honolulu Harbor. It turned back north, coming in low, and then settled gently down on Honolulu’s International Airport.
The plane rolled to a stop, doors opened, and landing ramps were wheeled into place. The twins, hardly able to contain their excitement, were first at the exit. Biff, his mother, and his father were right behind them.
Outside, a band played the familiar welcoming song, “Aloha.” Native girls, in hula skirts, with fragrant flowers in their hair and brightly colored necklaces of more flowers around their necks, swayed to the rhythm of the music.
Monica danced down the landing ramp. At its foot, a hula dancer stepped forward and placed a lei, a beautiful necklace woven of flowers – around the excited girl’s neck. Ted got the same treatment. More leis for Biff and Mr. and Mrs. Brewster, until the whole family wore fragrant chains of flowers up to their chins.
“Oh, Mother!” exclaimed Monica. “It’s everything I ever dreamed of! Just like I’ve read about and seen in pictures.”
It was a gay, exciting sight. The warm air, the gentle breeze, the music – a real Aloha, a real welcome. The spirit of Hawaii took over at once. Everywhere, happy people became happier. Gaiety filled the air. A soft scent of flowers cloaked the new arrivals.
The crowd milled about the gate leading to the terminal. It seemed there were hundreds of people all trying to pass through at once. The Brewster family clung together, Monica clutching her mother’s hand.
Thomas Brewster looked carefully over the crowd.
“I don’t see Dr. Weber,” he said to Biff. “I thought surely he’d meet us.”
“Maybe he’s just late, Dad.”
Ted came up and touched Biff’s sleeve. “Look, Biff, see that man over there?” He pointed.
Biff looked in the direction Ted indicated.
“See, Biff, he’s taking pictures. He took several of you and Dad. I was watching him.”
Biff’s eyes met those of the man with the camera. He was a swarthy man, short, wearing a rumpled white suit.
“Gee, I guess Dad must be some sort of a celebrity, taking his picture and all,” Ted said excitedly.
Biff didn’t think that was the reason. The man didn’t look like a newspaper photographer on an assignment. His eyes shifted as Biff stared at him. The man made no attempt to get “just one more shot,” as official cameramen are apt to do. Biff started toward him, determined to find out why the man seemed to be so interested in photographing Mr. Brewster.
Seeing Biff approach, the man drew back, fading into the crowd. By the time Biff had forced his way to where the man had been standing, the picture-taker had disappeared.
Biff frowned. He hadn’t liked the man’s appearance, and his slinking away made Biff even more suspicious. Why had he taken the pictures? How had he known which of the arriving visitors was Mr. Brewster? Biff shook his head. The answer to that question might have some connection with the call his father had received from Dr. Weber.
He had better tell his father about the incident, Biff decided. He rejoined the family and was about to speak when Mr. Brewster raised his voice.
“Over here! Over here, Mr. Mahenili!” He waved to an approaching man who in turn waved back, calling, “Aloha, my friend. Aloha!”
It was Hanale Mahenili, a native Hawaiian with whom the Brewster family was to stay during their visit to the islands. Mr. Mahenili was the Hawaiian representative of the Ajax Mining Company.
Introductions were made, and with the smiling Hawaiian leading the way, the party entered the airport terminal.
Passing a newsstand, Mr. Brewster halted quickly. He strode