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By Terri Whitman

 

The office was empty now save for one person.  Everyone else had gone home for the night.  As usual Steve McGarrett was the last one still there.  His coat and shoulder holster were hung in the usual spot on the coat rack next to his desk within easy reach if needed.  This case had been extra difficult for the team, but finally it had been solved.

 

The Governor had been on McGarrett’s case ever since the painting had been stolen.  The unity of the Islands could have been at stake if the painting hadn’t been recovered and the thieves apprehended.  Fortunately the Five-0 team came through as usual.

 

McGarrett stood there looking at the painting.  Its recovery had come at a great cost.  Too many lives had been forever changed and disrupted.  McGarrett himself had been affected by this painting in ways only just now unraveling. 

 

Taking another look at the man’s unfinished face, McGarrett wondered who he had been.  Hawai'ian history didn’t really go too much into his history.  Was he the Queen’s husband, lover, concubine, companion, brother or just a close friend or other family member?

 

He then took a look at the woman.  How very beautiful she was.  How very Hawai’ian too.  Queen Lili'uokalani had been Hawai’i’s last queen.  This painting had been done when she was young and just starting to realize what life had held for her.

 

A feeling of de-ja-vu came over McGarrett for a moment.  The painting brought McGarrett memories that he didn’t know if they were his for real or just a dream.  He did know that his hurt shoulder was a reminder of something other then a dream, for the pain had been very real when he received the injury to it.

 

The painting was also very unsettling to his soul.  It was as if the painting was talking to him, enticing him to re-enter its world.  To be her savior once again in a long away time, in a history of the Islands long before he was born. 

 

Turning away from the painting, he walked back to his desk to start, once again, on the mountain of paperwork this case had generated.  Sitting down in the cushioned white chair, McGarrett started to leaf through the file.  ‘How do I explain how I had gone back in time.  Once there I discovered the path to the identity of the thief.  No one would believe it if I told them.  I almost don’t believe it myself,’ McGarrett thought to himself.

 

McGarrett considered himself a very rational person.  If someone else had told him about what had happened he would have doubted their sanity.

 

A tired yawn escaped him.  It also caused him to stretch his tired and worn body.  ‘Damn am I tired.  It was been a very long day, not to mention a long week.’ McGarrett looked over to his clock noticing the time, 1:37 AM.  “Maybe I should take Danno’s suggestion and just come back when I’m rested.” 

 

Getting up from his chair, McGarrett grabbed his holster and then his coat as he headed for the door.  Before he left he took one more look at the beautiful lady in the painting.  Her expression seemed to smile back at him.  Shaking his head again, McGarrett walked out of his office, turning off the lights as he left.  “I need some sleep,” he said as he left. 

 

 

 

McGarrett was still working on the file that night and was extremely tired.  After several long days of continuously following up all the leads, Five-0 had finally got the lead they needed earlier in the day and were able to recover the painting.

 

Now they had to find why the dead thief had taken the painting and who he was.  All they had on him that he was a German and a suspicion that his last name might be Van Auken.  They also had to find out who it was that had left the large knife sticking out of the dead thief’s back and why they had killed him.

 

‘At this rate I should be able to get out of here soon,’ McGarrett thought as he glanced at the clock on his desk.  ‘It’s only 10:45 PM.  Maybe I’ll get home before midnight tonight this time.’ 

 

As he worked through the file he kept getting a feeling that something was still very wrong.  Looking up, McGarrett could have sworn that the lady in the painting was unhappy about something.  Putting down the file, he once again walked over to the painting that was resting on the couch in his office.  ‘It doesn’t belong there.’

 

Gently picking up the old painting, he put it on his chair behind his desk.  ‘No, not there either.’

 

Picking it up again, he looked around his office this time before deciding to try it on the wall next to the door.  It was as if the face in the painting scowled even more at him.  ‘Hummm.  Wait a minute.’

 

Leaving the painting where it was for a moment, McGarrett moved some of the items off a credenza that was located between the two windows to the left of the door.  He also removed the painting of the old ship he had there.  Moving back to the painting of the Queen, he reverently placed it on the wall.

 

The painting now seemed as if it were happy.  The painting gave off the feeling of saying 'I’m home finally.'  McGarrett stood back and looked at the painting.  'Yes, this is where the painting belongs,' he thought to himself, satisfying a deep feeling within himself.

 

McGarrett glanced at his watch.  It had taken him almost two and a half-hours to decide where to hang the painting.  He touched the painting once more to straighten it up a bit, but when his hand touched the canvas it was as if it sank into the painting itself.

 

"What the…?" questioned McGarrett as he quickly pulled his hand away from the painting.

 

Tentatively he reached for the painting again.  Again his hand sank into the picture and again he withdrew it.

 

"Can’t be," McGarrett said with suspicion.  But the cop instincts told him that something was up, something was wrong and asking him to fix it.  'I must be more tired then I think,' he thought.

 

This time he was even more determined to find out why this was happening.  Touching the painting now with a bit more force, he found that his arm also went into the painting.  Then all of a sudden he felt a strong pull on his arm, a pull he could not get loose from in spite of his pulling back.  Now he felt like he was falling through space and time, falling and falling, never to reach solid ground again.

 

 

"Hush, I can't hear anything," a man's voice was saying.  The noise in the background stopped.

 

McGarrett couldn't hear any more sounds of talking now.  He could hear the sounds of someone moving about him like steps and breathing and very soft but unintelligible whisperings.  He could smell something too but he couldn't identify it.  He thought he had his eyes open, but he couldn't see anything either.

 

"Give me that cup, Lianie," the voice said again.

 

'Why can't I see?  I know I'm not blind,' McGarrett thought to himself.  'I can hear some noises but I can't see.'  McGarrett was trying to rationalize what was happening to him but couldn't.

 

McGarrett felt someone raise his head a little and felt something pressed to his lips.  The liquid trickled into his mouth and he swallowed the bitter liquid.  His head was then laid down on what he found to be a soft pillow.  He felt a cover of some sort being pulled up closer to his head.  Now he felt safe.  He didn't feel like he was falling any more.

 

"Is he going to be OK?" a sweet sounding voice asked.

 

"Yes, let him rest now.  Should he stir again, give him some more of the tea.  It will help him," the first voice mentioned.

 

"He is such a hansom looking man," the sweet voice said.

 

"He's a haole, Lianie," came a disgusted voice in the background.

 

"Not all haoles are the same.  Maybe this one will be different," the sweet voice said as if to defend the newcomer.

 

"You watch, this one will be no different," said the other male voice in an accusatory voice.

 

"Yes, I'll watch this one and I know he'll prove you wrong.  I don't know who he is, but I'm sure he was sent to us for something good," came the woman's voice.

 

McGarrett didn't hear anymore of the conversation as he had fallen into a deep sleep brought on by the tea he had been given.

 

The morning sun was already warming the air in the building when McGarrett started to stir.  Slowly opening his eyes, he let them adjust to the level of light around him.  There was a noise from near the foot of the bed, he was sure it was a bed, made him lift his head and shoulders a bit.  That bit of a movement made the world start spinning for him so he laid his head back down, but kept his eyes open just a bit.

 

"Aloha sleepy head.  How are you feeling?" said the sweet voice he had heard before.

 

Looking around now by turning his head as it stayed on the pillow.  'Yes, it's a feather pillow,' he told himself.  McGarrett's eyes focused now on a young woman who looked young, Hawai’ian and very beautiful.

 

"Hi," McGarrett said somewhat weakly.  The world wasn't spinning so much now and he felt some of his strength returning to him.  He once again attempted to raise his head and shoulders up some.

 

"Here, let me help you," the young woman said as she put more soft feather pillows behind him.

 

Finally able to sit up some, McGarrett looked around him.  The room looked familiar and yet not.  He watched the young woman who had helped him.  She, like the room, also looked familiar to him.

 

"Where am I?" McGarrett asked.  He was still weak but his strength was returning a lot faster now.

 

"You are in one of the guest bedrooms at the Iolani Palace.  We found you past out in the Queen's study," the young woman told him.

 

'The Iolani Palace!  How could this be?'  It didn't look exactly like the Palace he remembered but… "You were here before.  I remember your voice," McGarrett said as a small amount of memory started to come back to him.  "Do you mind if I as you a question?  Who are you?" McGarrett asked her as he sat up even more in the bed.

 

"I'm Princess Lianie Ka'iulaini, a sister to Queen Lili'uokalani.  It was her room you had been found," Lianie told him.  She placed a cool wet towel to his head.  She could see he was still somewhat pale.

 

"How long have I been here?" McGarrett asked trying to get an idea of how long he was out.

 

"Not even a full day yet.  We found you shortly after sunset yesterday," Lianie told him.  She was sitting in one of the exotically designed chairs of the time period.  The reed wood of the back of the chair made her face look like it was encircled by a halo.  Her hair was pulled back slightly from her face and held in place by a plumeria flower.  Around her neck was a necklace of large black beads.  She had on a gown of an era many years past in the Hawai’ian history which McGarrett had learned about.

 

Laughing lightly at the look at came across McGarrett's face, Lianie continued.  "You look confused sir."

 

McGarrett composed himself a bit as he thought about what had happened to him in a very short period of time.  He steeled himself before asking another question.  "Do you mind answering another question for me?"

 

"No, I don't mind.  I'll answer if I can," Lianie told him.

 

"What year is it?"

 

Lianie looked at McGarrett questioningly now.  She got up from her chair and walked over to the door. "It is the year 1872 sir," she told him.  "I'll get Moli for you.  He will want to check to make sure there are no other injuries,' she said as she slipped out of the room quickly, closing the door behind her.

 

Lianie walked quickly down the hall.  Seeing Loni, a young helper in the Palace, she instructed her to get Moli for her and have him and two guards come up to the guestroom.

 

Lianie then walked over to the Queen's room.  She knocked softly on the door and walked into the room.  The Queen was sitting in one of the chairs on the liana eating her breakfast in the warm morning sunlight.  Walking over to the Queen, Lianie bowed low to her before she spoke.

 

"He has awoken," Lianie told her, "I've had Moli sent for and two guards."

 

"You've done well my sister.  Come let's talk to this stranger to our land," Queen Lili'uokalani said as she rose and walked into her waiting room.

 

Queen Lili'uokalani led the way to the guestroom.  When she came to the room the guard at the door knocked lightly on it and then opened it to allowing them to enter the room.  He followed them and closed the door behind him.  The other guard was already in the room.

 

 

When Lianie left, McGarrett looked around the room once again.  'I know this room.  This is Manicote's office, or it was to become his office.  She said it was 1872, but that can't be right.  It's 1972.  What happened?  How did I go back into time?  The painting…I was looking for the right place to put the painting.  I touched the painting and that is the last thing I remember.  How…'

 

His thoughts were interrupted when the door was opened and an elderly man, dressed in traditional Hawai’ian clothing, came into the room.  He was followed by a giant of a man.  This man didn't enter any further into the room but stood in front of the door with his arms crossed in front of him. 

 

'A guard of some sort,' McGarrett thought to himself.

 

"Aloha sir.  I am Moli Poloke, I am the lapa'au, the healer, for the Queen.  I have been sent to check on your palapu and olakino, your wound and your health," Moli told McGarrett.

 

McGarrett kept his face expressionless.  He looked from the elderly man to the man at the door.

 

Sensing the man's question Moli said, "That is Kamuela Lawai'a, he is one of the Queen's guards.  He is here to make sure you do not harm yourself or others.  He will not act unless you try to ho'ouka kaua, attack someone."

 

With that Moli walked up to McGarrett as he laid on the bed.  The healer was checking to make sure McGarrett was okay when there was a soft knock on the door.  Kamuela moved away from the door a little, keeping his eyes on the haole.

 

Both Moli and Kamuela bowed low when the three people entered the room.  The woman in front smiled and indicated for the other two to continue on with what they were doing.

 

Lianie walked over to the bed to stand next to Moli.  Moli stole a quick look at her face and saw that she was smitten by the stranger.  Smiling, he finished what he was doing.

 

"You are a man of very good health.  Your head should quit hurting shortly after drinking this," he said as he handed McGarrett a cup containing a medicine that he added to some water.

 

McGarrett didn't question the instructions as he drank down the contents in the glass.  He then leaned back against the pillows once again and looked at the three people who had came into the room.  McGarrett could tell that the woman in front was someone of power.

 

McGarrett was impressed with her regal bearing.  Here was a woman who was very beautiful and graceful.  She had on an old colonial style of dress, which was in sharp contrast to the Hawai’ian clothing worn by the others in the room.  Her hair, which was long and shinny black, was pulled away from her face and held in place by a jeweled comb.  Her eyes told McGarrett that she was very alert to what was going on around her.  He could also tell that this was a lady of class.

 

"This is her Majesty, Queen Lili'uokalani.  She is the Queen of Hawai’i and is my sister," Lianie told him.

 

"Aloha," McGarrett answered back.  "My name is Steve McGarrett."

 

"McGarrett?  That is not an English name, am I correct?" the Queen asked him.

 

"No, I'm Irish by birth."

 

"We have a lot of Irish who have visited our Islands and stayed to raise their families.  Have you any family here Mr. McGarrett?" the Queen asked him. 

 

"No, not that I know of.  I'm originally from New York," he told her.

 

"From the United States, I see.  May I ask what is the purpose of your visit to our Islands, Mr. McGarrett?" the Queen asked.

 

"I'm not sure I can explain why or how I got here and make it believable," McGarrett told her.

 

The Queen looked at Lianie for a moment with an unspoken request.  Lianie immediately bow slightly and pulled the chair she had been sitting in earlier over for the Queen to sit in.

 

"Please, Mr. McGarrett, I find a story works best when you start from the beginning, please proceed," the Queen ordered him.

 

Looking first at the Queen, then to Lianie and the two guards, McGarrett readjusted himself in the bed.  His headache had indeed left him for which he was grateful.

 

"Don't worry yourself about my guards, Mr. McGarrett.  They are here to make sure I am kept safe."  She could see that McGarrett was somewhat uncomfortable about the guards.

 

A slight smile came across McGarrett's face when he looked again at the guards.  He was sure these two guards would be enough security for the Queen.

 

"Yes, you are right, the best place to start a story is always at the beginning," McGarrett told her.  "Now I don't want you to think I'm crazy, but what I've got to say is going to be very hard to believe.  It seems that I've traveled back into time."  McGarrett hesitated now not sure what these peoples reactions would be at something so wild like this.

 

"Back in time?" Lianie questioned.  She was hoping that Mikala was wrong about this haole.  She was also worried that maybe this haole was crazy, time travel, really!

 

"Yes, I know it sounds wild and crazy but it's the truth."  McGarrett went on to explain to them what had happened to him the day before.  No one interrupted him as he told his story.

 

"So Mr. McGarrett, then why are you here?" the Queen asked.

 

"That, your Grace, I'm not sure of yet," McGarrett told her.  “But I think that the history of an unfinished painting of you has something to do with it.”

 

Lianie looked at the Queen and bent over to her for a moment to whisper something to her. “He knows of Kotani’s painting of you.”

 

The Queen nodded and slightly bent her head towards Lianie but her eyes never left McGarrett.  “Let him speak.  Please continue Mr. McGarrett.”

 

“I will try but again it will be hard to believe.  A friend of mine has had this painting in his family for several years.  The painting was stolen from him a few days ago…”

 

“How could a painting that has not yet been finished be stolen?” Lianie asked.  She now was really concerned that Mikala was right and the hoale was crazy.

 

“Maybe I should back up a bit more.  I am not from this time period.  I am from the future.  For me it is 1972.”  McGarrett said no more for he was watching and waiting for some sort of reaction from these people.  Other then the two guards becoming sterner in their expression, no one said or did anything.

 

“Please continue sir,” the Queen instructed McGarrett.

 

‘What a poker face she has.  I can’t tell if she believes me or not.’ McGarrett thought to himself before continuing on as instructed.

 

“As I said before, a friend of mine owns the painting.  He was planning on making a gift of it to the people of Hawai’i on King Kamehameha Day next June.  I had mentioned several times to him that the security of his home wasn’t very good and that someone could very easily break into his home and steal the painting,” McGarrett told his audience.

 

“Well, as I foretold him, someone had broken into his home and the painting disappeared.  My friend had been working in his indoor garden, getting it ready for the party he was giving for the Governor when he was hit on the head and knocked out.  When he came to, he found that the painting was gone.  It took us several days to locate the painting finally.”

 

“So you have recovered the painting then?” the Queen asked.  Her eyes had a strange look to them as if they were smiling.

 

‘I can see now what is so captivating about that painting.  It’s her eyes.  They hold you in their gaze,' McGarrett thought before he continued.

 

“Yes, we had received an anonymous call from someone where to find the painting.  When we went to the address given, we found the painting unharmed and the thief who had taken the painting.”

 

“Who was the thief?” Lianie asked.

 

The Queen looked at her for a moment and then turned back to the man from the future laying on the bed in front of her.

 

“We are still not sure who he is but there was a note left with the painting which was written in Hawai’ian saying “Koko i koko, ho'opa'i ku'u he ka'a.”  One of my detectives translated it for me.  He told me it meant, “Blood for blood, the revenge of my family has been paid.”

 

“A koko ho'ohiki,” Moli stated.  “Your Majesty, a blood oath.”

 

Looking back for a moment at the healer, the Queen smiled at him.  “Yes, yes.  Let him continue.”  Turning back to McGarrett, the Queen said, “Please continue.  There will be no further interruptions.”

 

“Yes, my Hawai’ian friend, Kono, explained to me what the message meant.  He did mention that it was a "koko ho'ohiki," a ‘blood oath’ also.  He told me that it is an oath taken by a family member for a cry of revenge that could be handed down to family members if the oath was not fulfilled during their life time.”

 

“He told me that somehow the thief and his killer must be connected in some way with the painting.  He speculated that maybe they were related to the man with no face or maybe even the painter himself.”

 

The Queen once again looked at the others in the office.  Getting up from the chair she walked over to Moli and whispered to him, “Find Mikala Makahehi and have him come here.”

 

“Yes your Majesty,” Moli said bowing before he walked through the opened door held by one of the guards.

 

The Queen walked back to the chair and sat down again.  “Mr. McGarrett, how much of Hawai’i’s history do you know?”

 

“Not everything but I have a good grasp of it.  What I don’t know I can find out by asking several of my Hawai’ian friends.  Why do you ask?” McGarrett asked going somewhat into his interrogative mode for the moment.

 

“The painting already has a history to it.  The artist who was painting it for me was found dead lying in front of it with a knife also in his back like your thief from the future.  We have yet to locate his killer or why he was killed,” the Queen informed him.  “The knife that was used is a ceremonial knife used by a kahuna, a high priest, during our bloody period of wars and religious ceremonies.  Shortly after the dead artist was found this knife disappeared.”

 

“Your thinking that maybe your murder here and our murder from my time may be related in some manner then,” McGarrett asked.  ‘Maybe she really does believe this wild story.  I know I’m still having trouble believing it myself,’ McGarrett thought once more to himself.

 

Before the Queen could reply there was a soft knock on the door.  The guard, Kamuela, opened the door and stood back to allow Moli and Mikala to enter, closing the door once more after they had passed him.

 

Mikala’s face showed his disgust at seeing the haole laying in the bed.  Mikala didn’t say anything though as he walked behind Moli.  Both men bowed to the Queen.  “You sent for me, your Majesty.”

 

The Queen turned a bit in her chair but didn’t rise.  “Yes, I wanted to ask you a question.  You were the one who found the dead artist, correct?” she asked. Her eyes looked directly at those of the young man.

 

Mikala looked first at Lianie and then at McGarrett before turning back to look at his Queen.  “Yes, I found the haole artist dead with one of our knives in his back," he said with a hissing tone in his voice.

 

“Whom did you contact after you found him?” the Queen asked.

 

Shifting uncomfortably, “I told Opaka, the guard in that part of the Palace.  He came back to the room with me.  When he saw the haole he told me he would inform his superior.  I assumed they were the ones who told you about it.”

 

“Was it not you who also found Kimo Kotani dead with a ceremonial knife plunged deep in his chest?” Moli asked.

 

“What are you referring to old man?  You think that I killed both of them?  Kimo Kotani was a friend of mine and I wouldn’t waste my time killing a stinking haole,” Mikala said, the anger rising in him fast.

 

“Mikala!  No one is accusing you of anything.  The Queen is merely trying to find the answers to a few questions,” Lianie said placing herself between her sister and Mikala.  She would give her life, if need be, to protect her sister.

 

Stepping back a little bit, Mikala glared at McGarrett for a bit before meeting the eyes of Lianie.  He then looked over at the Queen and bowed his head a bit.  “Please forgive me, your Majesty, but I do not trust any haole.  None of them can be trusted.  They want to take our lands and heritage from use and I can not tolerate that thought.”

 

The Queen had risen from the chair during this outburst.  Her face showed her concern of what he had said.  “No one will be taking our lands or heritage from us, Mikala.  I was just being sure that the information I had been told was true.  Mr. McGarrett here has a similar problem.  You may leave us now,” the Queen said dismissing him.

 

After Mikala left the Queen turned back to McGarrett.  “I’m sorry for that outburst.  He, like many of my people, is worried that the newcomers to our land will try to overtake our country, our Islands.  There have been many out breaks of violence against the haoles lately.  His father had been killed by the brother of the dead artist, and he feels it is he’s right to avenge this death.  His father was the man in the painting you mentioned.”

 

“I can see why he hates haoles then.  I take it that you don’t think he could have been the one to kill the artist.  He would have a strong reason for doing it,” McGarrett told her.

 

“Our people are sometimes very emotional.  Our bonds with our families are very strong, as are our bonds with our 'aina, our land, and our faith.”

 

Nodding his head in agreement, McGarrett’s eyes twinkled a bit as he better understood the history now of the painting.  ‘Things are better falling into place now.’  “Does the dead artist have any other families here?” he asked.

 

“Yes, he has a brother and two sisters who live here,” Lianie told him.

 

“What is the dead artist name?”

 

“Adam Van Auken.  His family came from a country called Germany,” the Queen answered.

 

McGarrett was all of a sudden getting very sleepy.  He was having problems keeping his eyes open.  He struggled to try to get the next question out.  “You said he was from Ger….,” but he never finished the question before sleep once again took over, a side effect of the tea they had given him earlier.

 

 

"Steve!  Steve!" a voice yelled at him.

 

McGarrett could feel hands shaking him gently first and then with more force.  Consciousness quickly came to him finally as he felt his arm being restrained when he had attempted to hit whatever it was that was touching him.

 

"Easy, Steve.  It's me Danny," Dan told his boss.  "We found you on the floor, here in your office."

 

McGarrett raised himself into the sitting position.  He put his hand to his head holding it.  Slowly his world was stopping its spinning motion to him.  Finally the spinning stopped and he was able to get up off the floor.  Making his way to his chair behind his desk, McGarrett sat down and leaned forward for a moment, again resting his head in his hands.

 

He then picked up a file that he had been looking at the night before and quickly leafed through it until he came to a particular page.  This information seemed to click something in his memory.  As he moved back into his chair his shoulder hit the back of it.  This movement sent a slight pain down his arm, making him pull forward a bit and grabbed at his shoulder for a moment.

 

Danny and the others watched him carefully.  They all were wondering what had happened during the night.

 

"You okay Steve?" Chin Ho asked.  His face was very heavy with worry.

 

"I'm okay," McGarrett reassured his friends.  "I must have hit my shoulder when I fell.  It's a bit sore but okay," he said as he flexed it a little.

 

"What happened Steve?" Duke asked.

 

Smiling a smile that the men knew only too well, McGarrett carefully sat back again.  "Gentlemen, I think I know who our thief was and why he stole the painting.  I also think I know who killed him and why."

 

The others looked at McGarrett for a moment.  He then went to explain what had happened and the information he had learned.

 

"Each of you will need to make the trip back in time to talk with the Queen.  She will be able to help you gather even more information on this case."

 

"Oh, come on Steve, time travel.  Maybe Doc Bergman does needs to take a look at you," Ben said.

 

Sitting forward now, McGarrett looked right at his most recent addition to the team.  "No Ben, I'm very serious."

 

The others now knew that McGarrett was absolutely serious about what had happened and what they would need to do to completely solve the mystery of the painting.

 

Now it was their turn to go through the painting to visit the Queen of olden Hawai'i.

 

 

 

 

       

Original content © 2000-2001
Betty's Book Me Danno
Originally Posted December 13, 2000