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datatime: 2022-10-06 11:31:26 Author:KOncmQPg

Hell, Sterling said with a laugh. The FBI man gulped down the rest of his rum punch. "I was just hoping I was full of crap."

Pearl sure seemed like an all-American girl.

Hell, Sterling said with a laugh. The FBI man gulped down the rest of his rum punch. "I was just hoping I was full of crap."

Still, much of mis eluded the average haole, particularly the typical tourist, because on the one hand, Hawaii worked hard at its Polynesian image-Waikiki wallowed in it-and on the other, Hawaii was insistent upon its American status, indignantly reminding forgetful mainlanders that they were in the United States, not some foreign land.

Fielder crushed his cigarette out in a little metal ashtray. He was nodding. "Fair enough. I'll tell General Short you want an appointment, Monday morning."

And Colonel Fielder headed toward the tavern and its parking lot. "I think you're doing the right thing," Burroughs said.

No-tonight. As soon as possible.

For a Coast haole (as mainlanders were referred to), Hully Burroughs had a better-than-average understanding of Hawaii's Japanese community.

Still, much of mis eluded the average haole, particularly the typical tourist, because on the one hand, Hawaii worked hard at its Polynesian image-Waikiki wallowed in it-and on the other, Hawaii was insistent upon its American status, indignantly reminding forgetful mainlanders that they were in the United States, not some foreign land.

Fielder sighed heavily. He finished off his rum punch and said, "All right, you stubborn s.o.b. Can you meet me at my quarters at six o'clock?" "Yes. Absolutely."

This afternoon, Hully needed his friend's help, for two reasons. First, he needed wheels-his father had taken the Pierce Arrow to the Shriner game. Second, he needed a tour guide-because, despite whatever scant familiarity he had with local Asian customs, Hully felt that would not be enough for where he needed to go.

Coast haoles saw only the Orient, a nonspecific Asia crammed into a few blocks-sleazy storefronts and Shinto shrines, silk shops and tattoo parlors, bathhouses and Buddhist temples, live chickens and dead ducks, coffee shops and chop suey joints, incense and strangely aromatic spices mingling with the sickly-sweet perfume of the nearby pineapple canneries and the salty stench of the marshlands below the city.

Fielder crushed his cigarette out in a little metal ashtray. He was nodding. "Fair enough. I'll tell General Short you want an appointment, Monday morning."

For a Coast haole (as mainlanders were referred to), Hully Burroughs had a better-than-average understanding of Hawaii's Japanese community.

You and I, we only knew Pearl through the Niumalu, Hully said. "The only people in her life that we know, too, are musicians, hotel staff and guests."

Then I'll meet with him on his goddamn front porch. I have to insist, Colonel. These Moris are on my list of potentially disloyal Japs. I'm positive this call means something-something's definitely in the wind.

Hell, Sterling said with a laugh. The FBI man gulped down the rest of his rum punch. "I was just hoping I was full of crap."

Chinatown. The Oriental neighborhood had been staked out many decades before by Chinese workers fleeing the sugar and pineapple plantations, marking off this triangle of downtown Honolulu-Nuuanu Street on the southeast, North Beretania Street on the northeast, South King Street as the hypotenuse-for small retail businesses and restaurants.

Hell, Sterling said with a laugh. The FBI man gulped down the rest of his rum punch. "I was just hoping I was full of crap."

Nodding, Fielder rose; the two men shook hands. "See you there."

For a Coast haole (as mainlanders were referred to), Hully Burroughs had a better-than-average understanding of Hawaii's Japanese community.

Right, Sam. But she used to live with her uncle, in Chinatown, when she first moved to Oahu-that could open up a whole new world of friends and acquaintances.

This afternoon, Hully needed his friend's help, for two reasons. First, he needed wheels-his father had taken the Pierce Arrow to the Shriner game. Second, he needed a tour guide-because, despite whatever scant familiarity he had with local Asian customs, Hully felt that would not be enough for where he needed to go.

And boyfriends like Bill and that Stanton character, who met her there.

Hell, Sterling said with a laugh. The FBI man gulped down the rest of his rum punch. "I was just hoping I was full of crap."

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