Page 44 of Deadly Sacrifice

Lei led the team as they approached theheiau, following a rocky path leading upward toward the stone structure. She felt the weight of the place: sacred. Ancient. There was an unmistakable sense of history here, a reverence that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. The air seemed heavier the closer they got, as though forgotten gods were watching, waiting.

Firefighters, the first responders on-scene, stood at the base of the terracedheiau, their bright yellow uniforms and reflective stripes sharp against the weathered stones. A few of them had taken off their helmets, wiping sweat from their brows as they talked in low voices, their expressions grim. The captain, a broad-shouldered man with a streak of gray in his hair, turned as Lei and her team approached.

“The body’s up there,” he said, nodding toward the higher terraces. His voice was calm, but there was something in his face that spoke of the gruesome scene they were about to witness. “We isolated the area, didn’t touch anything. Just waiting for you.”

“Mahalo.” Lei nodded her thanks and turned to take in the full scale of theheiau. The lava rocks that made up the sacred site were worn smooth in some places by centuries of wind and rain, but still large and formidable. The terraced sides rose steeply, creating a staircase effect that seemed to lead to the sky, though a thick tree canopy partially obscured the view above.

“I didn’t have a clue this place existed,” Dr. Gregory said, his voice hushed with awe. “What an amazing site.”

“This isPi‘ilanihale Heiau,” the captain said, his voice low. “Largestheiauin Hawaii and maybe the largest in all of Polynesia. This whole area is part of the National Tropical Botanical Gardens now, but back in the day, this was a place of worship. Some say it was aluakini heiau, used for human sacrifice.”

Katie surveyed the structure, and her voice was respectful when she spoke. “I studied thisheiauin school, but I’ve never been here before. It’s huge. And it’s, like, a thousand years old?”

“Close to that,” the captain replied, his gaze moving over the towering stone structure. “Our ancestors built these places for worship and ceremonies. Some believe they performed sacrifices here, but there’s a lot of debate about that. Scholars say the missionaries misunderstood the language. Words have multiple meanings, and context is everything in the Hawaiian language.”

Lei watched her protégée as Katie glanced at the terraces above, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Maybe the killer knows that history. Maybe that’s why this happened here.”

Lei didn’t answer, but she shared the same thought. Each of the victims had been killed on sacred ground, and whoever had done this had chosen thePi‘ilanihale Heiaufor a reason. The killer had a flair for the dramatic.

The climb up to the body was steep, the ancient lava rocks uneven beneath Lei’s shoes. She climbed carefully, her heart pounding not just from the exertion but from the dread and anticipation of what awaited them.

At the top, the air was cooler. A faint breeze had come up, blowing away the mist that clung to the trees. The scent of damp moss and decaying leaves was stronger here, mixed with another smell, more metallic.Blood.

Lei’s stomach tightened as they reached the scene.

Blood had run in black rivulets down the altar rock. A body, horribly mangled, lay on a large flat-topped boulder at the top of the highest terrace. The victim’s face and trunk were unrecognizable—obliterated by blows from the stone-headed club that lay beside him. The club’s head was dark with dried blood, the ti leaves around the body streaked with rusty crimson.

The scene was grotesque and ritualistic, as though the killer had followed some ancient script for a sacrifice.

Lei approached, taking pictures with her phone for her own reference as TG moved in with his professional digital camera and flash.

Katie, standing beside Lei, gagged suddenly. She quickly turned away, her hand covering her mouth, and her footsteps crunched on the stone as she walked a few paces, taking deep breaths of the humid air. Lei watched in concern until Katie turned back to face the scene, her face pale but resolute.

Lei could almost hear the sickening thuds of the blows that had shattered the man’s skull. It would have taken a good deal of force to reduce the victim’s head and upper torso to such a pulp.

The body was dressed in amaloloincloth as the others had been. The victim had been lean but muscular, with graying chest hair and pale skin. A blood-soaked ti leaf lei was draped across his chest, its once-vibrant green leaves soaked with gore.

As with the others, an offering had been placed between the victim’s legs—a bundle wrapped in ti leaves, tied with a cord.

“Different cause of death than the others,” TG observed aloud.

“Yes.” Lei snapped a few more pictures as the medical examiners set up a tent over the body, protecting it from the potential threat posed by a bank of clouds that were beginning to roll in from the ocean.

“This is an escalation in the level of violence,” Lei said to the team. “He cut the others’ throats. That wasn’t enough for him this time.”

“Looks like,” Pono agreed from where he stood.

“Any bets on that being the murder weapon?” Katie asked, her voice shaky as she pointed to the bloodied club.

“La‘au palau,” the local police sergeant said as he joined them. Lei glanced at the man, recognizing Sammy’s familiar face from past cases. His expression was somber, his voice low as he spoke. “That’s a traditional Hawaiian long club. I studied the old weapons when I was younger. There’s akahu—an elder—out here in Hana who teaches thelua.”

“Lua?” Katie asked, still pale but curious. “That’s the old Hawaiian fighting arts, right?”

Sammy nodded. “Yeah. Ancient and deadly.”

“I thought the other bodies were bad—but this killing shows more rage. The vic’s whole head and upper body are obliterated,” Lei said.

Katie seemed to be determined to overcome her squeamishness. She pulled out a measuring tape from her backpack and approached the body. “Let’s see how tall he was,” she said, her voice steadier now as she extended the tape measure toward the victim’s feet. “Five-eight, maybe one hundred forty-five pounds. Caucasian male. Gray hair. He used to work out regularly.” Her eyes met Lei’s with certainty. “I’ve seen a picture of the Kuleana team. Relative to their height, I know who this guy is: David Steinbrenner.”

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