Blue Heart, Part 3

Without Hawaiian sunshine to brighten it up, the waiting room was harsh and green under the fluorescent lights. As he approached, shoes echoing on the clean linoleum, McGarrett saw two cops. One was older, silver-haired, in uniform. Duke. He was talking quietly to the younger one, curly-haired, in shirt-sleeves. Danno.

They both looked up at hearing his footsteps. Danno was in tears. Duke’s shoulders were stooped, his face sad and troubled. Duke took one look at McGarrett’s face, got up immediately, tucked his hat under his arm, and hurried away.

McGarrett scrutinized Danno for a long moment. Danno tried to meet his gaze, then looked away. Danno coughed and shook his head, then muttered something to the ground.

"What?" McGarrett said softly. "I couldn’t hear you, Danno."

Danno looked up in obvious distress. "I said, I’m sorry, Steve," he blurted. "I’m sorry."

McGarrett sat down on the green plastic chair that Duke had just vacated. "What the hell happened, Danno?"

Danno looked away. McGarrett studied the younger man. Danno was pale and his face bagged with exhaustion. A tear teetered on the edge of Danno’s eyelid, beaded on the lash, then plunged over the side, running down Danno’s cheek to his nose. Danno shook his head again.

"It was my fault, Steve," Danno said. "We were questioning Blackmore. He as much as admitted he raped those girls. We weren’t far from getting a confession and having things wrapped up." Danno sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. McGarrett just waited tensely, his hands pressed tightly against his knees.

"Kono just went crazy," Danno said. "Blackmore needed to use the can, so we took him down there. He was a scumbag, Steve, a rapist and a child killer back in California. He was taunting us, baiting us, and—" Danno put his head down, staring at his hands which dangled between his legs. "I dunno, Steve. All of the sudden things were out of control. It had been a real rough interrogation, and both of us just kind of lost it. I wasn’t thinking as a cop anymore, Steve." Danno drew in a deep breath, then let it out in a slow, trembling exhalation.

"We were gonna beat him," Danno said. He glanced at Steve, then back to his hands. "And then, it turned into something more."

McGarrett didn’t say anything. He had always believed that the truth, no matter how painful, was better than a lie. At this moment, he wasn’t so sure. He knew from experience that Dan Williams would always tell him the truth. And then there would be no escape from it.

Finally, Danno looked up. "It was Kono’s idea, I guess. But I held him down. It was just as much my fault as it was Kono’s."

McGarrett had only one question for him. "Torture, Danno?" he said softly. "You?"

Danno stared at him. Then he rose and said, "I guess you didn’t know me as well as you thought you did." He turned from Steve and stumbled away.

Numbed, McGarrett didn’t try to go after him.

***

Somehow, he made his way back to Five-O headquarters. He could see the lights on upstairs. Kono’s car was in the parking lot.

McGarrett shoved open the door of the palace. For a moment, he leaned on the railing of the big koa wood staircase. Normally, he ran up the stairs. Right now, he wondered if he could even make it to the top. He felt like he was carrying 20 pounds of lead weights on each leg. A feeling of helpless dread crept up his spine and spread across his chest and arms.

Slowly, McGarrett climbed the stairs one by one. Now he knew how Sydney Carton had felt on his way to the guillotine.

The office door was open. Kono was in his cubicle, putting his things into a box. His University of Hawaii diploma, his jar of crackseed, his Hawaiian Beauties calendar, his photograph of himself getting a citation for bravery from the governor—

McGarrett groaned inwardly. I can’t even imagine how Jameson will react to this. Just a few months ago, Kono saved his life.

"They’re on your desk," Kono said, not looking up.

"What is?" McGarrett said.

"My badge and my gun," Kono responded. "And my resignation letter. They’re all on your desk."

Watching the big man shove things into the box, McGarrett felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Kono looked terrible—gray-faced, sweaty, and spiritless. Why had he not noticed that Kono was burning out?

Never one to lie to himself, McGarrett immediately issued a stern correction. He had noticed. Kono had been sullen and angry for months. He just hadn’t done anything about it.

"Kono," McGarrett said.

Kono looked up. He stopped packing his things and stood with his hands resting on a framed picture of a surf scene at Waimea. McGarrett wondered how long it had been since Kono had been surfing.

"Why?" McGarrett said.

Kono sighed deeply. "I dunno, boss. I just wanted him to suffer." He pushed the lid closed on the box. "How many of those guys have we cycled through, Steve? Hundreds, probably. When I first became a cop, I thought I could make a difference."

Kono shook his head. "But I couldn’t. There’s just too many of them, and too few of us. Not enough good guys." Kono looked at him bleakly. "Now I’m not a good guy either." He hoisted the box up. "I’m willing to take the responsibility for what I did. It wasn’t Danny’s fault, Steve. It was my show, all the way. Danny…" Kono’s voice trailed off. "Danny knew there was nothing bad enough we could do to that guy. I’m not sorry I did it. I’m just sorry I hurt Five-O."

He headed for the door.

"What will you do?" McGarrett said suddenly.

Kono paused. His shoulders slumped a minute, then straightened up. "Take my lumps, I guess, and then find something else. Something better." He looked Steve in the eye. "There’s more to life than being a cop. At least I hope so."

McGarrett listened to his footsteps go down the stairs of the palace. Then, he was gone.

***

He didn’t know how long he had been shut up in his office, brooding, thinking, when Chin Ho Kelly opened the door. McGarrett didn’t want to talk to Chin and didn’t turn his chair around from his position of staring out the window at the dawn.

Chin left for a moment, then came back. McGarrett smelled coffee. Chin placed a mug on Steve’s desk. Then, Chin sat down in one of the chairs that faced the desk. McGarrett heard Chin take a sip, then some soft tapping.

He knew the sound. Chin was going to light that damn pipe. McGarrett knew Chin’s game. McGarrett hated smoking. Chin was just trying to make him talk to him.

Steve had to admit it was a pretty good gambit. He really didn’t want Chin to stink up his office. Reluctantly, he turned around.

"Thank you for not smoking," he said hoarsely.

By the look on his face, it was plain to McGarrett that Chin already knew everything. In fact, Chin probably knew more than he did. Chin was fatherly, and men confided in him where they did not in McGarrett.

"Real bad scene," Chin offered.

"The worst ever," McGarrett replied. He drew the coffee to himself and drank. It tasted good.

"I talked to Duke," Chin said. "He’s feeling real guilty. Saw Kono was all wound up, that he and Danny were losing it, and he didn’t do anything. Next thing he knew, the whole thing had gone down."

"Tell Duke to take a number," McGarrett said. "There’s a lot of blame to go around. Most of it mine." McGarrett made a small gesture toward the window, where the State Capitol was emerging out of the sunrise. "I’ll have to go over there and see the Man. My God, Chin. What do I tell him?"

"Good cop loses his cool, next thing you know, all hell breaks loose," Chin said.

The door swung open and Danny Williams walked in. Danno was sweaty and dirty, still in his clothes from last night. He ran to Steve’s desk and placed a piece of paper on it.

McGarrett picked the paper up, glanced at it, and then dropped it into the trash.

"You can’t do that!" Danny hollered. "I’m resigning, see? This was just as much my fault as it was Kono’s!"

"I’m placing you on suspension," McGarrett said. "Go someplace, Danno. Take a rest. God knows you need it."

"But it isn’t fair!" Danny yelled.

McGarrett fixed him with a penetrating look. "Danno," he said slowly. "I can’t afford to lose you both. Do you understand?"

Danno stared at Steve and Chin. Then he turned and ran back out the door.

McGarrett and Chin sat in silence for several minutes, drinking coffee.

Finally Chin said, "It won’t be easy to save his job, boss."

"I know," McGarrett said. "I want to try."

After another pause, he asked Chin, "Did you know that Kono was…" He couldn’t think how to complete the sentence.

Chin gave a small shrug. "I knew he wasn’t happy. But who can tell what makes a guy blow like that? I just wish I’d been there to stop it. Then none of this would be happening."

McGarrett knew it was true. He and Chin were older, and neither one of them would have let the situation escalate the way it had. But then he dismissed the thought. The real problem was that he should have known that Kono—and, face it, Danno too—needed relief. He should have done something about it, months ago. But it was easier to do nothing, to stay in reactive mode, to focus on the latest crisis instead of what was happening to his men.

"What about the future?" Chin said, ever practical. "Given it any thought yet?"

McGarrett tried to force his tired mind to think of what would lie ahead. Five-O’s reputation would take a terrible hit. There would be an investigation, either from HPD internal affairs or from Manicote’s office. There could be charges filed against Kono and Danno. The newspapers would have a field day. He was sure that there would even be calls, at least from the Governor’s opponents, to break Five-O up entirely.

"We’ll have to regroup," he told Chin. "Get some new men in here and just—go on. What else can we do? We have a job to do, bruddah."

"How about Duke?" Chin suggested. "He’s a great cop, wanted to be in Five-O for years."

"Maybe," McGarrett said, a little dubiously. He had a great deal of respect for Duke, but somehow, the HPD sergeant seemed a little quiet and reserved to be a Five-O cop. Still, he’d been thinking for some time that Five-O needed better relations with HPD. Maybe there was a role for Lukela there.

"With this mess, it has to be someone squeaky-clean," McGarrett told Chin. "Like Caesar’s wife."

Chin looked blank. McGarrett explained, "Even after the conspiracy to kill her husband came out, no one even suspected her. Her character was that solid."

"How about Ben Kokua?" Chin said. "People call him the choirboy. He’s about as straight an arrow as I’ve ever seen."

McGarrett didn’t recall much about Kokua, other than an impression of height and earnestness. But he sounded like just what they needed.

"Talk to him, Chin, when you get the chance."

McGarrett got up, walked to the door, and looked out at the empty offices. No Jenny yet. No Danno, at least for a while. No Kono, ever again. A very bad night just passed, a very bad day ahead.

These days would be the tombs of his buried hopes.

He glanced back at Chin. Hopefully, out of the ashes, would come a better tomorrow.

PAU