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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."

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.

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.

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.

Hully had gained his awareness, limited though it might be, through his friendship with Sam Fujimoto, the son of their maid at the Niumalu. Sam-a senior in prelaw at the University of Hawaii-had shown Hully the local ropes, when the mainlander had first arrived.

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."

What do you think her uncle's likely to know? Sam Fujimoto asked.

One hand on the wheel, Sam gave Hully half a smile. "She was one-she was born in Frisco, right?"

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.

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

Pearl sure seemed like an all-American girl.

Pearl sure seemed like an all-American girl.

What do you think her uncle's likely to know? Sam Fujimoto asked.

But despite the name, in Chinatown, the Japanese (and the Filipinos, too, for that matter) vastly outnumbered the Chinese, though the white tourists, coming and going from the main port at the foot of Nuuanu Street, rarely knew the difference, much less noticed how the Japanese and Chinese merchants kept their distance from each other, even when jammed side by side.

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.

Colonel, Sterling said, "I can't agree-I know nothing here can be clearly defined as manifestly dangerous to security ... but the general tone of the conversation, in light of suspicious activity by a German 'sleeper' agent, and the Jap Consulate burning their papers ... Wooch, damnit, man-I have a sick feeling about this."

One hand on the wheel, Sam gave Hully half a smile. "She was one-she was born in Frisco, right?"

No-tonight. As soon as possible.

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.

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

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.

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.

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."

No-tonight. As soon as possible.

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

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