HISTORICAL FICTION By Michael G. Malaghan
April 7, 1932, the first day of the murder trial, dawned with soft breezes pushing puffs of cotton clouds over Honolulu Harbor’s silky blue waters. Four blocks inland, Taka signed in at the courtroom he had gotten to know so well from last year’s rape trial. He had arrived early, even though this first day would deal only with jury selection. He took his same seat in the press box, second row, at the end. It came with a polished mahogany post that obstructed his view. He had to move his head either right or left to see any of the court action. But he was the kid reporter and he knew his place.