Part 22 (1/2)

”Do you know what you're turning down?” George kept his unblinking eyes steady on Mark. ”My junkets to Vegas will begin soon. It's all strictly legal. I was planning to let you handle the action. Every weekend you collect five hundred dollars per man. They get a free trip to Vegas with their money back in chips. We collect ten percent on all the markers they draw in the casinos. Ten percent!” George pounded his desk with a fist. ”You know how much Hawaii people like to gamble. We'll make a fortune. Plus, we can form a legit travel agency and get a percentage from the airlines. People will line up to go.”

”And who collects the markers, George?”

”So get someone else to do it.”

”As good as it sounds, I can't do it. I'd still be involved. Plus, those buggas you're working with in Vegas scare me.”

”You scared?” George waved his hand. ”That's crazy. Anybody would do this.”

”Then I'm not worried.” Mark stood up. ”It'll be easy to find someone else to replace me.”

”I wanted to help you!” George slapped the arm of his chair. ”You think I'm going to do this the rest of my life? In less than ten years I'll have millions. Then I'll retire. My sons will have enough money to be legitimate businessmen.”

”Let's just say I'm the gutless one this time.”

”Okay, Mark. Be an idiot. Throw away the millions I'm offering you.”

Mark turned to leave.

”Hey, Mark.”

Mark turned around.

”You're still my brother, so keep your mouth shut. I'll make sure no one bothers you.”

Mark shrugged and walked out the door.

George leaned back in his chair and looked out the window for a long time. He never thought Mark, of all people, would quit on him.

Chapter Thirty-one.

Honolulu: 1947 Less than a year after they married, Katherine gave birth to a son. He was a cute little fuzz-ball with red hair, a loud voice, and determined fists punching the air. Sean smiled at his wife. ”He's a fine boy. We'll name him Patrick.”

Katherine drew her son closer and bit her lip. ”Patrick?”

”It's a good name.”

”I was thinking of something like Duncan, after my father.”

Sean patted her hand. ”Now you won't begrudge me naming him after the man who brought me here, would you? Let's compromise. Patrick Duncan Duffy.” He stroked his son's cheek. ”Look, he stopped fussing. I think he likes his name.”

”He is beautiful, isn't he? Patrick Duncan Duffy.” She kissed him on his forehead. ”I suppose it will do.”

Ah, Uncle Patrick, Sean thought as he gazed at his new son. It's not all hard-hearted and forgetting you I am. Perhaps he'll be the kind of man you wanted me to be.

Duncan Ritchie toasted his new grandson with a gla.s.s of sherry and a Havana cigar in the library of Duncan's home before a lava rock fireplace. Since the time Sean first met him, his hairline had receded to the center of his head where tufts of gray hair sprouted. However, Duncan's watchful, bright eyes were still the same. In some ways he still made Sean feel like a little boy.

”He's a fine, healthy grandson.” Duncan chewed on the end of the cigar before puffing it once again. The pungent smell filled the room with a sickly sweet aroma. ”Katherine is our youngest. Now my baby's added to the new generation of Ritchies.”

”His name is Duffy,” Sean corrected him.

”Yes, of course. But here in Hawaii he'll always be thought of as a Ritchie.”

”The name Duffy will mean something someday.”

Duncan smiled and flicked the ashes from his cigar. ”As I told Katherine, you've got spirit. I like the way you stand up for yourself. That's good.”

”I'm glad you see it that way.”

”Do you know on the day Meg got married I handed her a check for $250,000?” Duncan puffed on his cigar and kept his eyes on Sean. ”The difference was Meg married one of us. For all I knew, you could have been an opportunist. I hope you understand my caution.”

Sean nodded. Now that he had a child, he knew he would do everything in his power to keep him from fortune hunters.

”And let me say this, although my brother-in-law was disappointed by the outcome of the Maui Pine case, we agreed it wasn't your fault. You did an impeccable job. It was something that was bound to happen sooner or later.” Duncan put down his cigar. ”We understood the risk. With each s.h.i.+pload of immigrants, we brought in more people who would inevitably challenge us. We took care of our immediate needs and sacrificed the future.”

Sean agreed. ”You're right. Change was inevitable. But if the Maui Pine workers didn't have anonymous financial a.s.sistance we would have won. They would never have been able to take it all the way to the Supreme Court. I predict future clashes with the unions now that they've become a factor to contend with.”

”The war changed our world. Many of the poor, uneducated GI's who flooded into Hawaii during the war left b.a.s.t.a.r.d children and created a mongrel territory.” Duncan rubbed his cheek. ”But the war also made it possible for us to expand our economy faster.”

Sean knew Duncan always gave long, philosophical speeches before making important announcements. He reminded himself to be patient. ”It has always been our custom to leave our wealth in trust for future generations. The trusts now have a purpose far beyond their original intent. Whoever controls the land controls Hawaii. Do you know the Sandwich Isles Trust Company?”

Duncan's cobalt blue eyes burned into Sean.

Sensing more to the question, Sean carefully chose his words. ”The president is John Stanley, your third cousin by marriage.”

Duncan nodded. ”Well, Johnny's retiring. He got a seat on the Board of Trustees of the Crown Estate, the biggest, richest land trust in Hawaii. After King Kamehameha's favorite daughter, Lokelani, and her husband, Angus Crown, both died childless, the Princess created the Crown Lands Estate trust. She directed the trust be used solely for the education of children of Hawaiian ancestry. The Supreme Court of Hawaii chooses all the trustees. It's a lifetime appointment that pays a magnificent salary for going to a meeting only twice a month. It's the most sought-after retirement plum on the islands.” Duncan frowned. ”I don't know what Johnny did to get it but he promises to continue to ensure the Princess Lokelani School will never give upstart ideas to the natives.”

Sean was silent. Though married with children, John Stanley was a closet h.o.m.os.e.xual. Sean knew Duncan considered himself a moral Christian and disapproved of John.

”How would you like to be the President of Sandwich Isles Trust Company?”

Sean put down his cigar. ”I'm overwhelmed.”

”You're one of us now. You have a fine legal mind, guts, ingenuity, and loyalty. You have the right stuff.”

”Thank you, sir, for your vote of confidence.”

Duncan slapped his thigh with a grin. ”That's the first time you called me sir. Oh, before I forget, I have a little something for you.” Duncan handed him a sealed envelope. ”Congratulations. My grandson is a fine, healthy boy.”