After all these years
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- robspace54
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After all these years
What would Thomas Magnum be doing after all these years? Positing his retirement from Naval Intelligence, perhaps a few years ago, I thought what might draw him back to a previous life... -Rob
= = = = =
I had just returned from another book tour, the second printing of How to be a World-Class Private Investigator having finally started to pay off. My years in Naval Intelligence added to the experiences I had long ago in the Islands, and a publisher had paid notice at last. But right now, tonight, it was all about baseball. The Yankees were facing the Phillies in game five, and I was hoping that the Phillies would start to come alive. If it wasn't the Dodgers, at lest someone could try to beat the Yankees. I was sitting in front of the TV holding a cold Dusseldorf, feet up, when the phone rang and I heard a voice from long ago.
“Magnum? Is that you?” the voice had a touch of old English.
I recognized the voice in an instant. “Higgins! Wow! I’ve really glad you called. How are you? How are things on Oahu?” I asked.
“Magnum. There is something I need you to do.” Jonathan Quayle Higgins III said forcefully. “I need you to come see us. And hope I have not woken you. I was uncertain of the time in Virginia, or wherever it is you are living now”
“Now? Right now?” It was the same old Higgins. But I think I knew how to handle him. “Just drop everything? Run off to Oahu, just on your say-so? You are on Oahu, aren’t you? I am in Virginia Beach, by the way.”
“Thomas, Robin Masters has called and directed that you immediately come here.” The little man was imperious as always. “You must; as soon as possible. Robin has opened the Nest again and I expect him here tomorrow. Will you come?”
I had not heard from Higgins in five years and yet the majordomo was just the same. Although who was the same after all this time?
“Higgins? Just like that? What’s wrong?” This was more than a social call. “What’s going on?”
The English voice softened a bit. “Thomas, please. I’ll expect you day after tomorrow at the latest. Goodbye.”
The line went dead. So I put down my beer and called the airline.
= = = = =
I had just returned from another book tour, the second printing of How to be a World-Class Private Investigator having finally started to pay off. My years in Naval Intelligence added to the experiences I had long ago in the Islands, and a publisher had paid notice at last. But right now, tonight, it was all about baseball. The Yankees were facing the Phillies in game five, and I was hoping that the Phillies would start to come alive. If it wasn't the Dodgers, at lest someone could try to beat the Yankees. I was sitting in front of the TV holding a cold Dusseldorf, feet up, when the phone rang and I heard a voice from long ago.
“Magnum? Is that you?” the voice had a touch of old English.
I recognized the voice in an instant. “Higgins! Wow! I’ve really glad you called. How are you? How are things on Oahu?” I asked.
“Magnum. There is something I need you to do.” Jonathan Quayle Higgins III said forcefully. “I need you to come see us. And hope I have not woken you. I was uncertain of the time in Virginia, or wherever it is you are living now”
“Now? Right now?” It was the same old Higgins. But I think I knew how to handle him. “Just drop everything? Run off to Oahu, just on your say-so? You are on Oahu, aren’t you? I am in Virginia Beach, by the way.”
“Thomas, Robin Masters has called and directed that you immediately come here.” The little man was imperious as always. “You must; as soon as possible. Robin has opened the Nest again and I expect him here tomorrow. Will you come?”
I had not heard from Higgins in five years and yet the majordomo was just the same. Although who was the same after all this time?
“Higgins? Just like that? What’s wrong?” This was more than a social call. “What’s going on?”
The English voice softened a bit. “Thomas, please. I’ll expect you day after tomorrow at the latest. Goodbye.”
The line went dead. So I put down my beer and called the airline.
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- robspace54
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I watched a YouTube interview (Hollywood 411?) with Tom Selleck. The interview was mostly about the 5th Jesse Stone movie. TS was asked about a Magnum movie (endless spectulation about that, of course) and he said that people would want to know what Magnum had been up to after all this time. TS also said that he imagined the Star Trek model. TV show followed by a movie, and besides "there are fans out there that know entire dialogs." They love these characters, and know them so well that any movie would have to address that (at least that's my interpretation).
Driving from the pharmacy in the rain to meet my wife for dinner last night, I wondered what Magnum had been up to. Retired from Naval Intel, finally wrote the book, watching TV, when a voice from the past intrudes. Now I too wonder what comes next?
Sometimes the muse sits on your shoulder and whispers, and you'd better listen!
Driving from the pharmacy in the rain to meet my wife for dinner last night, I wondered what Magnum had been up to. Retired from Naval Intel, finally wrote the book, watching TV, when a voice from the past intrudes. Now I too wonder what comes next?
Sometimes the muse sits on your shoulder and whispers, and you'd better listen!
Intriguing...
actually, rob, I wonder if it would be more than a little amusing to see if we could do a serial of this. Different installments over a period of weeks.
(And not to hijack the thread... but I wonder if it would be like if all of us got together and did a little improv). AKA.... someone starts OFF the movie, another forumite continues... using the same plot threads established by the previous author(s) and introducing new ones/continuing established ones as they go along.)
Now, realize thats easier said than done. Have to have a very stellar beginning (and this takes the cake). Plus, have to establish who writes what part... and when it'll end.
But that being said... we have a lot of people on here who have more than enough knowledge re. Magnum to get this going and create THE ULTIMATE MAGNUM MOVIE!!!!!
Idea just hit me, but I'd like to hear what everyone else thinks. I think it could be really fun and inject a really interesting new thread. Besides, if a movie never gets made, we have our own version made by us, for us!
(And... we can move it to another thread and start it up. I'm not going to step in rob's way when he wrote this great intro.)
actually, rob, I wonder if it would be more than a little amusing to see if we could do a serial of this. Different installments over a period of weeks.
(And not to hijack the thread... but I wonder if it would be like if all of us got together and did a little improv). AKA.... someone starts OFF the movie, another forumite continues... using the same plot threads established by the previous author(s) and introducing new ones/continuing established ones as they go along.)
Now, realize thats easier said than done. Have to have a very stellar beginning (and this takes the cake). Plus, have to establish who writes what part... and when it'll end.
But that being said... we have a lot of people on here who have more than enough knowledge re. Magnum to get this going and create THE ULTIMATE MAGNUM MOVIE!!!!!
Idea just hit me, but I'd like to hear what everyone else thinks. I think it could be really fun and inject a really interesting new thread. Besides, if a movie never gets made, we have our own version made by us, for us!
(And... we can move it to another thread and start it up. I'm not going to step in rob's way when he wrote this great intro.)
- robspace54
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Well I did just write 600 more words. So here they are. And if another area of M-M is appropriate please port away. I was thinking how far I could go with this thing and what ideas others might have. And if no one will write a screen play... why can't we? -Rob
= = = = =
Two days later around noon, I was standing outside the Honolulu Airport Terminal waiting for a cab. I was tired, my back was aching from too-small airplane seats, I was foggy from jet lag, and was tired of eating peanuts from tiny bags. I was also $1,600 poorer. I know what you’re thinking. Why would I drop everything and fly nearly 6,000 miles just because an old friend called? Let’s put it this way.
The morning of September 12, 2001 was the last time I had talked to Higgins. I was in Naval Intel then and he had called me on the day after 9/11 to ask me one thing and to tell me another. The question was if I was alright? When I assured him that I was he then told me the other thing. What he said was that he was certain that I would do the suitable thing.
I was doing the suitable thing.
As the cab took me to Robin’s Nest, I enjoyed the ride. The sun was bright, sky blue, the trade winds were blowing, and it felt like I was home. Just like the old days. No, that was wrong. Some things could never be the same. But I had hope that they might be. I kept asking myself what Higgins and Robin Masters needed me for. There was no way to know until I got there.
The cabby let me off at the gates to Robin’s Nest forty five minutes later. Other than a new intercom and a camera perched on the wall things looked unchanged. I pushed the call button and waited. I heard two dogs barking as they raced towards the gate and it really did feel like a homecoming. Two black snouts pushed through the gate. Oh, no! They barked and then stopped at a shouted command from inside the wall.
“Higgins! It’s me, Thomas!” I shouted. Doberman Pinchers give me chill at times, even now.
I heard footsteps on the gravel drive and a slim young man limped up. Late twenties, with sandy hair and tanned skin. He carried a cane in his right hand. His gaze was steady. He stopped a few feet from the fence and looked me up and down. “You must be Magnum.” He did not look pleased to see me.
“Yeah, that’s me, Thomas Magnum. Who are you?” I was trying to be friendly. Really.
The man looked at the dogs and they looked at him. With a twitch of his cane, the dogs darted off.
“Neat trick. They must like you.” I smiled at the guy.
He pointed to my duffle. “You got a gun in that thing?”
I shook my head. “No. Just socks and underwear.”
He checked me out again, clearly not liking what he saw. “Hm. Well then, I’m Security. Come in.” The gates slid open and I stepped inside.
I looked at the guy and could see some scars on his left hand and he had a blotchy area on his neck, but otherwise looked fit. Maybe 170 lbs, about six feet tall. Big biceps. Hazel eyes. The few words he had spoken had a bit of Texas in them.
I tried to soften him up. “You from the South?”
He watched while the gates slid closed, then started to walk away. He gave me that stare again. “You don’t need to know. Come with me.”
So I followed him down the drive towards the main house. I had come all this way, and there was no Higgins in sight. It was just like the little major to needle me like this. Maybe some things were the same after all.
= = = = =
Two days later around noon, I was standing outside the Honolulu Airport Terminal waiting for a cab. I was tired, my back was aching from too-small airplane seats, I was foggy from jet lag, and was tired of eating peanuts from tiny bags. I was also $1,600 poorer. I know what you’re thinking. Why would I drop everything and fly nearly 6,000 miles just because an old friend called? Let’s put it this way.
The morning of September 12, 2001 was the last time I had talked to Higgins. I was in Naval Intel then and he had called me on the day after 9/11 to ask me one thing and to tell me another. The question was if I was alright? When I assured him that I was he then told me the other thing. What he said was that he was certain that I would do the suitable thing.
I was doing the suitable thing.
As the cab took me to Robin’s Nest, I enjoyed the ride. The sun was bright, sky blue, the trade winds were blowing, and it felt like I was home. Just like the old days. No, that was wrong. Some things could never be the same. But I had hope that they might be. I kept asking myself what Higgins and Robin Masters needed me for. There was no way to know until I got there.
The cabby let me off at the gates to Robin’s Nest forty five minutes later. Other than a new intercom and a camera perched on the wall things looked unchanged. I pushed the call button and waited. I heard two dogs barking as they raced towards the gate and it really did feel like a homecoming. Two black snouts pushed through the gate. Oh, no! They barked and then stopped at a shouted command from inside the wall.
“Higgins! It’s me, Thomas!” I shouted. Doberman Pinchers give me chill at times, even now.
I heard footsteps on the gravel drive and a slim young man limped up. Late twenties, with sandy hair and tanned skin. He carried a cane in his right hand. His gaze was steady. He stopped a few feet from the fence and looked me up and down. “You must be Magnum.” He did not look pleased to see me.
“Yeah, that’s me, Thomas Magnum. Who are you?” I was trying to be friendly. Really.
The man looked at the dogs and they looked at him. With a twitch of his cane, the dogs darted off.
“Neat trick. They must like you.” I smiled at the guy.
He pointed to my duffle. “You got a gun in that thing?”
I shook my head. “No. Just socks and underwear.”
He checked me out again, clearly not liking what he saw. “Hm. Well then, I’m Security. Come in.” The gates slid open and I stepped inside.
I looked at the guy and could see some scars on his left hand and he had a blotchy area on his neck, but otherwise looked fit. Maybe 170 lbs, about six feet tall. Big biceps. Hazel eyes. The few words he had spoken had a bit of Texas in them.
I tried to soften him up. “You from the South?”
He watched while the gates slid closed, then started to walk away. He gave me that stare again. “You don’t need to know. Come with me.”
So I followed him down the drive towards the main house. I had come all this way, and there was no Higgins in sight. It was just like the little major to needle me like this. Maybe some things were the same after all.
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A few fragments of where I thought this might lead. Give me some better ideas, please! -Rob Possible scenarios:
Robin really would like to see all his old “friends” again because he is dying. Or, he wants them all to come to Oahu and then he would stage a disappearance, carefully tracking their activities as fodder for the “last” Robin masters novel. He had a major case of writer’s block in his “last” manuscript and wanted to gather info for the book.
But (plot twist) plane arrives day before TM gets there. Limo leaves airport with Robin. Robin orders them to stop. He and bodyguard Rene get out. Go into hotel (all part a planend disappearance). Driver waits, they are gone. Gives up after six hours.
Higgins calls later to find out plane has arrived. Robin and Rene are missing. He and new security guy retrace the path with the limo driver (morning of TM getting to Robin's Nest). Goes to hotel. They find Robin’s wallet stuffed into a bush. Note found – We have Robin – Will contact later.
Rene turns up at hospital having been drugged. No memory of what has happened. So WHO has nabbed Robin and why, and where is he?
p.s. Security guard's name is "Nick Christopher" from two Marines stationed at Kaneohe I met at Kailua Beach Park in October 2009.
Robin really would like to see all his old “friends” again because he is dying. Or, he wants them all to come to Oahu and then he would stage a disappearance, carefully tracking their activities as fodder for the “last” Robin masters novel. He had a major case of writer’s block in his “last” manuscript and wanted to gather info for the book.
But (plot twist) plane arrives day before TM gets there. Limo leaves airport with Robin. Robin orders them to stop. He and bodyguard Rene get out. Go into hotel (all part a planend disappearance). Driver waits, they are gone. Gives up after six hours.
Higgins calls later to find out plane has arrived. Robin and Rene are missing. He and new security guy retrace the path with the limo driver (morning of TM getting to Robin's Nest). Goes to hotel. They find Robin’s wallet stuffed into a bush. Note found – We have Robin – Will contact later.
Rene turns up at hospital having been drugged. No memory of what has happened. So WHO has nabbed Robin and why, and where is he?
p.s. Security guard's name is "Nick Christopher" from two Marines stationed at Kaneohe I met at Kailua Beach Park in October 2009.
Sometimes I get so lucky, even I don`t believe it.
- robspace54
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- robspace54
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- Joined: Thu Nov 12, 2009 7:18 pm
- Location: Cincinnati, Ohio
Light colored gravel crunched under foot as we walked to the main house. I could see a white van near the door and some guys on ladders painting the stucco. The house needed it. The trees and bushes had recently been given a trim, and the gravel on the drive looked new. Robin was sprucing the place up.
We went towards the front door but the security guy stopped. He didn’t look quite as grim before.
He cleared his throat. “Mr. Magnum, I’m sorry for how we got started back there. Can we begin again?” He switched his cane to his left hand and stuck out his right. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Nick Christopher. Mr. Higgins hired me last year. He has told me a lot about you.”
I took his hand and shook it. “Thanks. Nice to meet you.” I said it like I meant it. I went on. “I hope Higgins hasn’t filled your head with too many ideas about me.” I let me eyes sweep across the grounds and the house. “Looks like the compound is getting fixed up.” The painters were clearly almost done.
“No, sir, not too many stories. Yes, the compound was run down. Mr. Masters hasn’t used it for a long time. We expect him soon, sir.”
Higgins was telling Magnum stories to this guy? Oh boy. I tried to cover my irritation. “Robin’s not here yet?”
Nick shook his head. “No, sir. He was delayed coming in from Vancouver. Mr. Masters should be here tomorrow.”
Wonderful. I had busted my tail to get here and Robin hadn’t arrived. “Any idea what this is all about?” I was as mystified as anyone, but for that matter why had I scampered here so fast?
“No, sir.” He shifted his cane back to his right hand and leaned on it heavily. “Sorry, get a twinge once in a while.” His faced wrinkled in pain.
I knew the look. I had seen it on my own face too many times in the mirror. “Afghanistan or Iraq?”
Nick smiled. He knew that I knew. “Both. Last trip was to Helmand Province, Afghanistan. Special Forces. We were in a little place about 50 klicks from Lakshar Gar.”
“Rough duty.” I vaguely indicated his leg. “Bad?”
“A tour in Iraq; then to Helmand. Seven months in country working with the Brits. IED got me. But the guy used a really thick piece of steel as the pressure plate. Blew me over a wall. Busted my foot pretty good.”
Those improvised explosive devices were nasty and they were making them deadlier. I nodded in understanding. “Sorry to hear that. Doing alright now?”
His eyes met mine and I could tell he was lying. “Yeah. It’s OK.”
Our eyes met. He knew that I knew. “Let’s go to the house.”
“Yes, sir,” he continued. “I’m not sure why Mr. Masters wanted you to come.”
“Would you quit calling me sir?” I was mad but kept my voice calm. “Just call me Tom. And I don’t know the reason behind this trip either.”
“OK, sir… uh, Tom. Mr. Higgins wondered if it had something to do with Mr. Masters’ latest manuscript. It will be his 30th book, you know.”
I’d seen the steady stream of Robin’s work over the years, and there were a few pages in “The Purloined P.I.” that reminded me of a few of my old cases. But I really hadn’t kept up with Robin’s work. I suppose that Robin had his own reasons for summoning me and I hoped I’d find out soon. Meanwhile the jetlag was giving me a headache. Nick motioned me to the door so we went into the main house.
We went towards the front door but the security guy stopped. He didn’t look quite as grim before.
He cleared his throat. “Mr. Magnum, I’m sorry for how we got started back there. Can we begin again?” He switched his cane to his left hand and stuck out his right. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Nick Christopher. Mr. Higgins hired me last year. He has told me a lot about you.”
I took his hand and shook it. “Thanks. Nice to meet you.” I said it like I meant it. I went on. “I hope Higgins hasn’t filled your head with too many ideas about me.” I let me eyes sweep across the grounds and the house. “Looks like the compound is getting fixed up.” The painters were clearly almost done.
“No, sir, not too many stories. Yes, the compound was run down. Mr. Masters hasn’t used it for a long time. We expect him soon, sir.”
Higgins was telling Magnum stories to this guy? Oh boy. I tried to cover my irritation. “Robin’s not here yet?”
Nick shook his head. “No, sir. He was delayed coming in from Vancouver. Mr. Masters should be here tomorrow.”
Wonderful. I had busted my tail to get here and Robin hadn’t arrived. “Any idea what this is all about?” I was as mystified as anyone, but for that matter why had I scampered here so fast?
“No, sir.” He shifted his cane back to his right hand and leaned on it heavily. “Sorry, get a twinge once in a while.” His faced wrinkled in pain.
I knew the look. I had seen it on my own face too many times in the mirror. “Afghanistan or Iraq?”
Nick smiled. He knew that I knew. “Both. Last trip was to Helmand Province, Afghanistan. Special Forces. We were in a little place about 50 klicks from Lakshar Gar.”
“Rough duty.” I vaguely indicated his leg. “Bad?”
“A tour in Iraq; then to Helmand. Seven months in country working with the Brits. IED got me. But the guy used a really thick piece of steel as the pressure plate. Blew me over a wall. Busted my foot pretty good.”
Those improvised explosive devices were nasty and they were making them deadlier. I nodded in understanding. “Sorry to hear that. Doing alright now?”
His eyes met mine and I could tell he was lying. “Yeah. It’s OK.”
Our eyes met. He knew that I knew. “Let’s go to the house.”
“Yes, sir,” he continued. “I’m not sure why Mr. Masters wanted you to come.”
“Would you quit calling me sir?” I was mad but kept my voice calm. “Just call me Tom. And I don’t know the reason behind this trip either.”
“OK, sir… uh, Tom. Mr. Higgins wondered if it had something to do with Mr. Masters’ latest manuscript. It will be his 30th book, you know.”
I’d seen the steady stream of Robin’s work over the years, and there were a few pages in “The Purloined P.I.” that reminded me of a few of my old cases. But I really hadn’t kept up with Robin’s work. I suppose that Robin had his own reasons for summoning me and I hoped I’d find out soon. Meanwhile the jetlag was giving me a headache. Nick motioned me to the door so we went into the main house.
Sometimes I get so lucky, even I don`t believe it.
- robspace54
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The inside was little updated from twenty years ago. Same dark furniture, although the wallpaper and paint looked fresh. Nick took me to the study where Jonathan Quayle Higgins III sat behind the big desk, half glasses perched on his nose, writing in a leather bound journal. He had lost some hair and there were tinges of gray in his hair and moustache, but he looked about the same as long ago, down to the khaki bush jacket.
Higgins put down his pen and stood up speaking in his usual haughty tone. “Ah, Magnum. You are finally here. You’ve certainly took your time getting here.”
Same old Higgins, who immediately put me on the defensive. “Oh come on, Higgins! I got here on the earliest flights I could book. You can’t imagine how full airlines are today.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I see you’ve met Nick. He’s been helping me here at Robin’s Nest. We’re preparing for Robin’s arrival tomorrow. I trust you can stay awhile.”
His tone got under my skin. “That depends, doesn’t it? What’s going on? Why does Robin need me?” I felt a headache starting.
Higgins said, “Magnum, I don’t know. All I can tell you is that Robin directed me to have you come here. I called and you came.” He smiled and came around the desk. “And here you are.” He stuck out his hand and we shook.
“Thanks, I guess. Where can I…?” My legs felt weak right then. Jetlag was hitting me hard.
“Ah, yes. You can use the Guesthouse… if you must.” He went back towards his journal and glanced up at me. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” I followed Nick down the hall. So much for a happy homecoming.
Nick grinned at me. “Need a map to the Guesthouse?”
“I think I can find it.” I picked up my duffle from the hall and left the house past the painters who were packing up. I marched across the lawn. The ocean to my right was a pale blue and the sky was that solid cloudless shade that you can only see in the Islands. Past the tennis court through the cocoanut palms, and it was there; my old home.
It was ten years ago when I had last visted here. Lily and I were living in San Diego then with the NIA keeping me busy with West Coast Operations. The door on the lanai opened to my push and my old address appeared. The furniture looked new, but I was only interested in one thing and that was bed. I had caught the red-eye out of Norfolk, which put me into LAX very late. A few short hours later I was on the plane to Honolulu. The flights had worn me out.
I have a friend who claims the best way to deal with massive jetlag is to drink, a lot. Another says to stay up as late as possible after arriving when going west, and the opposite when heading east. There were likely many magic schemes. But I went right to bed and in no time I was asleep.
The next day I woke up around six. I felt fine. There’s something about fifteen hours of sleep that will cure many ills. The tropic sun was still below the horizon when I went out. I'd found orange juice in the fridge then went to the beach. The soft sand was perfect for a morning run and I easily put two miles onto my feet. I circled back to the seawall, stripped off my shirt and shoes and started to swim. The ancient turtle pen and offshore reefs blocked the surf and I felt at ease in the warm water. Stroke, kick, stroke, kick, breathe. I fell into an easy rhythm and let my mind drift, but I still didn’t know why Robin had summoned me. Maybe he only wanted to talk. I made a few laps of the enclosure with sure easy strokes. Then I heard someone yelling.
Someone on the beach was calling me. “Magnum! Magnum! Blast it, Thomas!” It was a voice I knew too well.
I waved to the little major on the shoreline and glided into the shallows. “Higgins?” I choked on seawater. “Argh, aahrr… can’t you let me finish my laps?”
Higgins slapped his riding crop against his leg. “Thomas, I need your help. Robin Masters is missing.”
Higgins put down his pen and stood up speaking in his usual haughty tone. “Ah, Magnum. You are finally here. You’ve certainly took your time getting here.”
Same old Higgins, who immediately put me on the defensive. “Oh come on, Higgins! I got here on the earliest flights I could book. You can’t imagine how full airlines are today.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I see you’ve met Nick. He’s been helping me here at Robin’s Nest. We’re preparing for Robin’s arrival tomorrow. I trust you can stay awhile.”
His tone got under my skin. “That depends, doesn’t it? What’s going on? Why does Robin need me?” I felt a headache starting.
Higgins said, “Magnum, I don’t know. All I can tell you is that Robin directed me to have you come here. I called and you came.” He smiled and came around the desk. “And here you are.” He stuck out his hand and we shook.
“Thanks, I guess. Where can I…?” My legs felt weak right then. Jetlag was hitting me hard.
“Ah, yes. You can use the Guesthouse… if you must.” He went back towards his journal and glanced up at me. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” I followed Nick down the hall. So much for a happy homecoming.
Nick grinned at me. “Need a map to the Guesthouse?”
“I think I can find it.” I picked up my duffle from the hall and left the house past the painters who were packing up. I marched across the lawn. The ocean to my right was a pale blue and the sky was that solid cloudless shade that you can only see in the Islands. Past the tennis court through the cocoanut palms, and it was there; my old home.
It was ten years ago when I had last visted here. Lily and I were living in San Diego then with the NIA keeping me busy with West Coast Operations. The door on the lanai opened to my push and my old address appeared. The furniture looked new, but I was only interested in one thing and that was bed. I had caught the red-eye out of Norfolk, which put me into LAX very late. A few short hours later I was on the plane to Honolulu. The flights had worn me out.
I have a friend who claims the best way to deal with massive jetlag is to drink, a lot. Another says to stay up as late as possible after arriving when going west, and the opposite when heading east. There were likely many magic schemes. But I went right to bed and in no time I was asleep.
The next day I woke up around six. I felt fine. There’s something about fifteen hours of sleep that will cure many ills. The tropic sun was still below the horizon when I went out. I'd found orange juice in the fridge then went to the beach. The soft sand was perfect for a morning run and I easily put two miles onto my feet. I circled back to the seawall, stripped off my shirt and shoes and started to swim. The ancient turtle pen and offshore reefs blocked the surf and I felt at ease in the warm water. Stroke, kick, stroke, kick, breathe. I fell into an easy rhythm and let my mind drift, but I still didn’t know why Robin had summoned me. Maybe he only wanted to talk. I made a few laps of the enclosure with sure easy strokes. Then I heard someone yelling.
Someone on the beach was calling me. “Magnum! Magnum! Blast it, Thomas!” It was a voice I knew too well.
I waved to the little major on the shoreline and glided into the shallows. “Higgins?” I choked on seawater. “Argh, aahrr… can’t you let me finish my laps?”
Higgins slapped his riding crop against his leg. “Thomas, I need your help. Robin Masters is missing.”
Last edited by robspace54 on Mon Dec 21, 2009 3:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sometimes I get so lucky, even I don`t believe it.
- robspace54
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The khaki clad figure stood over me. “Robin’s plane landed this morning. Mr. Masters and his long-time bodyguard Rene left the airport in a limo. Robin had the driver stop outside a Waikiki hotel undergoing renovation. He left the limo, directing Rene to wait, as he would be gone only a few minutes.” He paused to catch his breath then continued. “Rene followed after a few minutes and found Robin nowhere to be found. He was just reaching for his cell phone to call the estate when someone struck him over the head rendering him unconscious. He’s in the hospital now.”
“We’ll have to do something about it,” I said.
Higgins grabbed my arm as I stood up from the water. His expression said it all. “Thomas, I’m sorry your homecoming had to start like this. Come!” and he strode off to the main house.
For an old man Higgins could move fast. By the time I pulled on my shirt and picked up my shoes he was gone. I raced after him, catching him at the door just as Nick came out holding a cordless phone.
The kid looked flushed. “Mr. Higgins, it’s for you.”
Higgins took the phone. “This is Jonathan Higgins speaking. Who is this?” He listened for a few seconds then said, “Just what do you think you are doing? Is Mr. Masters alright?” He lowered the phone. “They hung up.” He sized up Nick and me for a moment with a grim expression. “That was a rather rude young man who told that he is holding Mr. Masters for ransom.”
I was amazed. “Robin, kidnapped?”
“Apparently.” He turned to Nick. “Nick, how did they get the private number?”
“I guess they got it from Mr. Masters. That’s what the caller told me when I answered the private line. He did not sound very nice. When he asked for you, I asked him who it was. He said that if I didn’t get you on the phone right away, I’d have a dead author on my hands.” The kid was shaking.
Higgins patted him on the shoulder. “That’s alright son. We’ll find him.” He turned to me. “We will won’t we?”
I nodded. “Did he say anything else?”
“Just that he would call back tomorrow. And not to call the police.” Higgins swayed a bit. “Thomas, I…”
“We’ll find him Higgins!” Something told me finding Robin would not be easy. I also sensed something else was brewing; something I was not being told.
Higgins dug a toe into the drive and began pushing gravel around.
“We’ll have to do something about it,” I said.
Higgins grabbed my arm as I stood up from the water. His expression said it all. “Thomas, I’m sorry your homecoming had to start like this. Come!” and he strode off to the main house.
For an old man Higgins could move fast. By the time I pulled on my shirt and picked up my shoes he was gone. I raced after him, catching him at the door just as Nick came out holding a cordless phone.
The kid looked flushed. “Mr. Higgins, it’s for you.”
Higgins took the phone. “This is Jonathan Higgins speaking. Who is this?” He listened for a few seconds then said, “Just what do you think you are doing? Is Mr. Masters alright?” He lowered the phone. “They hung up.” He sized up Nick and me for a moment with a grim expression. “That was a rather rude young man who told that he is holding Mr. Masters for ransom.”
I was amazed. “Robin, kidnapped?”
“Apparently.” He turned to Nick. “Nick, how did they get the private number?”
“I guess they got it from Mr. Masters. That’s what the caller told me when I answered the private line. He did not sound very nice. When he asked for you, I asked him who it was. He said that if I didn’t get you on the phone right away, I’d have a dead author on my hands.” The kid was shaking.
Higgins patted him on the shoulder. “That’s alright son. We’ll find him.” He turned to me. “We will won’t we?”
I nodded. “Did he say anything else?”
“Just that he would call back tomorrow. And not to call the police.” Higgins swayed a bit. “Thomas, I…”
“We’ll find him Higgins!” Something told me finding Robin would not be easy. I also sensed something else was brewing; something I was not being told.
Higgins dug a toe into the drive and began pushing gravel around.
Sometimes I get so lucky, even I don`t believe it.