THE TRADE WINDS were blowing across Oahu. Jackson hated to be inside on a day like today. “I think you’ll find this interesting,” he said after knocking on Schofield’s door.

     “What’s up?” Schofield dutifully paused what he was doing and looked up.

     “You wanted me to interview the drivers again?” Jackson hit the topic running. “Well, seventeen out of twenty of our fender benders -- if that’s even a real word! -- listen to the radio when they drive.”

     “You got that from the Nielsen ratings?” Schofield asked.

     “No. I got that from asking each and every one of our fender benders.” Jackson ignored Schofield’s attempt at humor.

     “So,” Schofield said, refocusing, “they get in their cars, strap themselves in, turn on the ignition, then turn on their radios each and every time before they drive away?”

     “Two of them do exactly that,” Jackson confirmed. “The rest just leave their radios on all the time. After the car fires up, their radios turn on automatically.”

     “And that’s what you’ve got for me after charging the American taxpayers for thirty man-hours plus benefits?” Jackson figured Schofield hadn’t had his obligatory second cup of coffee yet.

     “Yeah, well, the evening is young,” he said.

     “Then pick up the pace, will you?” Schofield said. “I’m not gettin’ any younger!”

     “Then, you asked me to see if anyone else blacked out near any of our fender bender sites,” Jackson said, as he looked for that data in his notes.

     Yeah, I did.” Schofield was beginning to look impatient.

     “Well, they did,” Jackson said. “But get this, only the ones near those sites where the drivers did not have their radios playing when they bent their fenders.”

     “That seems like a whole lot more than a coincidence.” Schofield had stopped rearranging things on his desk.

     “Around these cars, people were dropping like flies -- for about three city blocks.” Jackson explained. “About a dozen cases per site.”

     “And guess what else? None of the original fender benders happens at the same time. There was a minimum separation of at least three hours.” Jackson beamed, as if he had just discovered the lost chord.

     “So, if I’m hearing you correctly,” Schofield concluded, “if these were somehow assisted accidents, one guy could have been responsible for all of them?”

     “It looks that way,” Jackson confirmed. “Both of the accidents on the Big Island happened three and a half hours apart.

     “The next day, the three accidents on Maui all happened on that one day. Kauai’s accident didn’t happen until the day after that. Oahu didn’t have any accidents until the next day after that. The three mainland accidents happened two and three days after Oahu’s.”

     Schofield was already formulating a plan. “So here’s what I want you to do--”

     “Way ahead of you,” Jackson cut in. “I’m already collecting passenger lists for all flights starting with the Big Island that could carry our perp between destinations.”