MANO

CHAPTER 5

The next break in the case came Monday morning, with a call from one of the hospital's in downtown Honolulu. A man had been admitted with gunshot wounds. He had been found slumped unconscious in a car by an off duty police officer who remembered the flyers put out over the weekend by Mano's squad and who could add two and two together. The vehicle had been impounded by HPD and was currently being torn apart by the forensics people. The man himself, bleeding profusely, had been whisked to the nearest hospital, but not before his hands were handcuffed, a precaution taken with all terrorist suspects. His condition didn't come into it and no chances were taken with suspected terrorists who could trigger a hidden vest of explosive with a touch of a finger.
When Mano arrived at the hospital he was immediately briefed by Nui, who told him that the doctors wouldn't allow anyone to question him. They said he's too delirious.
Mano scowled. He hated bureaucracy at any level. He immediately issued a new order to Nui. "Get that doctor for me. I'll have a word in his ear."
Moments later, a man dressed in green stocks approached walking in step with Nui. There was an annoyed, impatient look on his angular face. He had obviously been arguing with the big detective. He snapped at Mano. "Do you realise how busy I am?"
"And about to get a lot busier," Mano snapped back.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Ever seen the effects of a dirty bomb?"
Strangely enough, the doctor had. His face lost some of his anger. "What's this all about?" he queried, in a quiet tone.
Mano explained the situation to him and in the end the doctor gave permission for a search of the patient's personal effects and had agreed to a supervised visit. "You can try talking to him, but I doubt he'll give you much. He's just out of surgery to remove a bullet and he's still drugged up. But you can try."
Mano didn't need to be asked twice. He stalked forward towards the recovery wards, intent on questioning his suspect. A uniformed HPD woman was manning the door to the private ward, resplendent in her blue uniform with its yellow Honolulu badge. She recognized Mano and stood aside so he could enter.
Mano entered the room and stared down at the gaunt figure in the bed, the left hand handcuffed to the post of the bed. "Mano," he announced, and the man's eyelids flickered. "Hawaiian police. You up to telling us your name?"
"Ali," he grunted.
"You're in a lot of trouble Ali. Do you know that? Two dead police officers and enough stuff found in your luggage to send you away for life. Unless you decide to co-operate. Where can we find your friends?"
Silence.
Mano waited, tapping his fingers along the bedpost. He tried another tack. "Any family here in Hawaii, Ali?"
"No."
It was at least a response.
"Ali? What's your full name?"
"Ali Al-Wali." A film of pain crossed the terrorist's face. The supervisory nurse caught the look and she spoke up. Warning tones. "Detectives?"
Mano nodded. He had enough. He had a name. He had enough to go on. Before He left he flicked his smartphone to camera mode and took the prints of the man in the bed. He met with no resistance. He met Nui back in the corridor. The detective had been checking the terrorist's personal effects. "Anything?" Mano asked.
"Few things. Photographs. We might have one of his accomplices." He nodded at the door. "He give you anything?"
"His name."
"Wouldn't be Ali Al-Wali? Would it?" He laughed at Mano's expression. "I was keeping the best for last."
"Personal effects?"
"We found his passport there. Everything has been bagged and sent down to the lab's at HQ."
"Good work Nui."
He swelled on his feet to face the Honolulu police officer on the door, glancing at her name tag. "Nobody in or out, Officer Apikalia, "except hospital personnel. Clear?"
"Understood, sir."
"And brief your relief when he shows up."
"Sir," she acknowledged again.

* * *

There was a rap on the door.
"Come," Mano called.
Nui stuck his head through the door. "Boss, we got a fast kickback from that stuff we sent to the lab'. AFIS came up trumps for us."
"Give."
"Al-Wali's prints were all over the stuff, but we got a make on another possible suspect. He's known as Jahil and he's on a Homeland Security watchlist. They're faxing over the details as we speak."
Not for the first time had Mano cause to be thankful to AFIS - The automated fingerprint identification system used by police departments stateside and by the FBI and CIA. He slammed his fist on his desk in triumph and grinned at Nui. "Let's get rolling, shall we?"

* * *