Mano's Brief.

Chapter 3.

Kai Lino couldn't believe he was in San Francisco - the city with the Golden Gate Bridge. True, it was a business trip and he was here on police business, but still? He'd told his parents and his girlfriend about it in hurried calls from Honolulu's Daniel K. Inouye International Airport prior to departure.

The flight was close to five hours. A reservation had been booked ahead at a hotel near Union Square. The room was Spartan but sufficient for his needs. He unpacked his travel bag. He left his tooth and shaving stuff into the bathroom. He then lay on the bed and relaxed for a few moments. He drifted into a light sleep before swinging his feet to the carpeted floor. He didn't want to risk falling into a heavy sleep because he wanted to go out and experience the city.

He spread a map on the bed, noting the port area he would be visiting in the morning. He noted several more areas he'd like to visit that evening. He folded the map and took hold of his cellphone. He texted Mano that he had arrived okay and received an acknowledgement.
He took a stroll towards Fisherman's Wharf and then onto the Golden Gate Bridge. On his way back he stopped for a fish and chips with some slaw on the side, and a pot of tea.
He slept soundly.
The poverty took him aback, the tents.

Captain Jack Albiar was waiting for him in a large wardroom near the bridge. His number one was also there and one of the pursers. Kai showed them his identification and took note of all their names:
Captain Jack Albiar
Number one was Greta Garcia.
Purser was Tony Aholt.
The name of the ship was SS Agusso.

The purser spoke first, having received a nod from Albiar. He spoke with confidence about Bima and Dewi. He pointed out an obvious age difference between the two and that Bima appeared to be significantly older. There was something about the two that suggested they were anything but husband and wife.
"Elaborate, please?" Kai insisted, a pen and notepad in his hand.
Ahold shifted nervously on his small feet. "They didn't sleep together," he pointed out. "Our maids can always tell."
Kai made a brief note.
Greta Garcia, dark Mexican looks, spoke up next. "I got the impression," she said, "that they were playing a game and that they weren't who they said they were. They spoke French a lot."
"It's an impression I had as well, sir," Albiar put in.
Kai looked at the captain. "You had some interaction with them, sir?" he queried.
"I did," he replied. "At some point during a cruise guests are invited to join the captain's table for dinner and we get to know our guests a little bit better. They were for want of a better word - reserved. And I too, noticed they spoke French quite a bit."
Interesting. Kai made a few notes.
The captain made a little joke. " What do you like them for? Murder?"
Kai didn't return the smile. "We like them for terrorism and terrorist activities."
The smile vanished from Albiar's face. It was the fear of every American. After 9 11, what would be next. Cruise ships?
With responsibility for thousands of passengers Albiar knew all too well what havoc could ensue if his ship was taken by terrorists.
He turned to his people and to Kai: "Anything you want, young man. Anything we can do."
It was always that way after 9 11, whenever and wherever terrorism reared its ugly head.
Several hours later, he stood pondering on the jetty as the SS Agassi made ready for sea once again. He'd gone through the cabin occupied by the couple with a fine tooth comb, looking for evidence and prints. Prints had already been photographed and sent via his cellphone to Honolulu where they would be checked against AFIS and international databases held by Interpol, and of course the Indonesian authorities in Jakarta.
Watching the SS Agusso get underway he pondered on whether he'd like to take a cruise someday. The ships were large, often with fourteen decks or more and he had read somewhere that they used 80,000 gallons of fuel a day. Many travelled between twenty and thirty knots an hour.
He imagined they could be strenuous enough on the body - drills, up and down steep steps, gangways and the like; to say nothing of the crowds and the need to keep pace.