Bear Bones

by Charles Cutter

  Burr nodded apologetically during his judicial scolding, the waters muddier than he ever thought he could have made them.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the tragic murder of Helen Lockwood was just that…a tragedy. But that doesn’t mean her husband killed her. There were many people who had sufficient reason to kill Mrs. Lockwood. If the prosecutor had looked a little harder, he might well have found the real killer.” Burr walked back to his table. “Your Honor, the defense rests.”

  “We will have closing arguments after lunch.” Judge Fisher slammed her gavel and walked out.

  * * *

  The litigants reconvened at Stacy’s for what Burr thought would be their last lunch. He was in high spirits after the morning’s joust with Brooks. He thought he had closed the gap on reasonable doubt, in spite of the fact that four people had testified that they had seen Tommy on South Manitou the day Helen was murdered. And a fifth person had seen Tommy on the missing dinghy. So, closing arguments and a prompt acquittal.

  Burr wolfed down his cheeseburger, no reason to change what worked. Julie gave him another piece of pie on the house. The Sisters of Outrage picked at their food. Burr left a twenty-dollar tip in the cash register to go with their twenty-dollar lunch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Gentlemen, we are ready for closing arguments,” Judge Mary Fisher said.

  Brooks stood. “Your Honor, a new witness has just come forward. The prosecution requests that the witness testify before the closing arguments.”

  Damn it all. Now what?

  Burr rose, slowly, his cheeseburger not quite agreeing with him. “I object, Your Honor. The prosecution has had ample time to put forth its case. Mr. Brooks already has had one additional witness, which interrupted my defense, but who proved to be inconsequential.”

  Brooks walked up to Judge Fisher. “Your Honor, there was nothing inconsequential about finding Mrs. Lockwood’s diamond ring at the defendant’s home. It could only have been put there by the defendant.”

  Burr joined Brooks in front of the judge. “That ring is nothing more than a prize in a Crackerjack box. It doesn’t mean a thing. It proves nothing.”

  “Your Honor, this witness is crucial,” Brooks said.

  “Poppycock,” Burr said.

  “She has just now come forward,” Brooks said. “Had I known about her, I would have had her testify much sooner.”

  “Who is it this time? Joan of Arc?” Burr said.

  Judge Fisher drummed her fingers on her desk. Finally, “In the interest of getting all the facts out, I will allow the new witness to testify.”

  “Your Honor, this is another outrage in a long list of outrages. Brooks is writing his own version of the court rules.” He reached up and slammed his fist on Judge Fisher’s desk. The bud vase wobbled and wobbled. They all watched it wobble. Back and forth, then it tipped over, spilling water on Judge Fisher’s files.

  “I am so sorry, Your Honor.” Burr reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, then remembered he never carried one.

  “Not again,” said the aggrieved Judge Fisher.

  The bailiff rushed over and mopped up the spilled water with his handkerchief. Then he righted the bud vase.

  “Sit down, Mr. Lafayette,” the judge said. “Mr. Brooks, you may proceed.”

  Burr sat.

  “The State calls Karen Hansen.”

  Burr jumped in his chair.

  What’s going on? I just had lunch with her.

  He snapped his only pencil in two.

  Eve reached over the railing and handed him another pencil.

  Burr leaned over to Tommy, “What is going on?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The bailiff swore her in. She had on a knee-length black sweater dress with a high neck. Her only jewelry was a pair of gold studs. Her only makeup was a hint of wine-colored lipstick, highlighting her creamy skin. Her frizzy black hair was pulled back in a French bun. Burr thought she looked surprisingly calm, especially for someone who was about to give damning evidence against her brother-in-law.

  Brooks went through her background, including her one-third interest in Port Oneida Orchards and her relationship, by marriage, to Tommy.

  “Mrs. Hansen,” Brooks said, “would you please tell us what you told me? About your sister?”

  “I loved Helen. She was a wonderful sister. And friend. After our father died, she was the leader of the family. She ran the orchards. She was fierce. Nothing and no one could stop her. None of us, including Tommy, stood in her way.”

  “By Tommy, you mean the defendant?”

  “Yes.” Karen pulled her skirt down, not that it needed it.

  “Please continue, Ms. Hansen.”

  “Helen had a strong will. Nothing got in her way. But she was also a person of large appetites.”

  What is going on?

  “Appetites?”

  “Sexual appetites. She liked men. She loved Tommy but she carried on with other men.”

  “You mean she had affairs.”

  “Yes.”

  Are you kidding me? This is terrible.

  He grabbed Tommy by the shoulder. “What is going on?” Tommy didn’t say anything.

  “How long did these affairs go on?” Brooks said.

  “I think it started once they learned they couldn’t have children. She never said so, but that’s what I think.”

  “Did she have many affairs?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “More than one?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “More than five?”

  This is worse than terrible.

  “Yes.”

  “Ten?”

  Burr stood up. He knew where this was headed and he didn’t like it. “I object, Your Honor. This is speculation.”

  Judge Fisher looked down at Karen. “If you know the answer to the question, please answer it.”

  Karen nodded. “I’d say at least ten.”

  Brooks looked at the jury. “At least ten affairs. At least ten extramarital affairs.” Back to Karen. “Did the defendant know?”

  “I don’t think he did at first, but he did later. Helen made some effort to be discreet. She took most of them out on her boat.”

  “Did Mr. Lockwood know about these affairs?” Brooks said again.

  “We all knew.”

  “Do you know how he felt about it?”

  “I think he hated it. And I think he hated her for it.”

  “Why didn’t he divorce her?”

  “I’m not sure. He loved her. She had a hold on him.” She pulled her skirt down again.

  “Mrs. Hansen, why didn’t you come forward before now?”

  “At first I didn’t think Tommy was capable of killing Helen. He loved her too much. But when Consuela testified about the ring, I knew only Tommy could have put it there. I think he just finally had enough. I think he lost his mind and killed her.”

  Brooks turned to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, four witnesses have testified that they saw the defendant on South Manitou the day Helen Lockwood was murdered. It may well be that he murdered his wife so he could sell the farm and get her share. Another witness has testified that she saw Mrs. Lockwood take her husband back to her boat by dinghy at South Manitou. A spurned and jealous husband could have killed his wife. In a fit of temper. That is what occurred. Money is one thing. Infidelity is quite another.” Brooks turned to the judge. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.” Brooks sat.

  Burr looked at his pencil. He picked it up, then set it down. He didn’t want Brooks to see how mad he was.

  He approached Karen.

  How could you have just had lunch with me and done this?

  “Mrs. Hansen, how long have you
known Tommy Lockwood?”

  Karen looked away, then back at Burr. “About twenty-five years.”

  “Twenty-five years. That’s a long time.” Burr paused. “Why, after all this time, and all of those supposed affairs, did you just bring this up now?”

  “It was the ring.”

  “The ring.” Burr paused again. “Why didn’t anyone else bring it up. Lauren Littlefield, your other sister. The housekeeper. She would surely have known. According to your testimony, everyone knew.” It was Burr’s turn to turn to the jury. “Don’t you find it a little odd that everyone knew yet no one ever brought it up. Until now?” Burr stared at Karen.

  This started out so well, so long ago. It was a complicated, well-paying condemnation case. And now we’re going to be enemies.

  “Mrs. Hansen, I’m sure you’re aware that if, in the unlikely event, Mr. Lockwood were to be convicted of killing his wife, he would lose his share of the proceeds of the farm. Your one-third share would become half.”

  Karen looked at her lap. “I had no idea.”

  “But you were the only one who wanted to sell the farm.”

  “Tommy did, too.”

  Burr ignored her. “Maybe you put the ring in the flour.”

  Brooks leapt to his feet. “This is inflammatory speculation.”

  “Sustained,” the judge said.

  “Your Honor, Mr. Lockwood wasn’t the only one with access to the flour bin.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Fisher said again.

  Burr was just about finished, but he thought he might as well find out as much as he could. It was a risk, but at this point he had nothing to lose.

  “Mrs. Hansen, as to these alleged affairs, do you have any proof? Did you ever see your sister with any of her supposed lovers?”

  “Well… everyone knew.”

  “Mrs. Hansen, did you ever see your sister with any of the supposed lovers?”

  “Well…”

  “Answer my question,” Burr said.

  “No.”

  “Thank you. And was there say anything written down anywhere about them? Love letters, credit card records, cancelled checks?”

  “I think Helen kept track of things. That would be something she would do. I don’t know where.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  Karen pulled at her skirt for the third time, as if it was her virtue being besmirched. “I don’t know. Ego maybe. She liked to keep things straight.”

  “Your Honor, I have no further questions.” Burr walked back to his table and sat.

  “Gentlemen, we will take a ten-minute recess, then you will present your closing arguments.”

  That won’t work. Not after what Karen just said.

  Burr stood. “Your Honor, in light of this unexpected, surprising and altogether without-notice testimony, I request a one-week recess.”

  “A week? That’s ridiculous,” Brooks said.

  It may be a bit much.

  “Your Honor, Mr. Brooks has run roughshod over the court rules. If this keeps up, the next edition will have his name on it.” Burr ran his hands through his hair, front to back.

  “Witnesses keep coming forward,” Brooks said.

  “In a pig’s eye.”

  “Mind your manners, Mr. Lafayette,” Judge Fisher said. She drummed her fingers again. She rearranged the flower in the bud vase, not that there was much to be done with a solitary flower in a bud vase with no water. Finally, “Mr. Lafayette, we will have closing arguments the day after tomorrow. At ten o’clock sharp.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  She tapped her gavel, careful not to upset the bud vase, and walked out.

  Burr walked back to his table. Karen and Lauren were nowhere to be seen. Eve handed him a pencil, which he broke.

  “Thank you, Eve.”

  Burr saw Tommy head out the door into the hallway. He ran after his now likely to be convicted client and caught up with him in front of the infamous coatroom. He grabbed Tommy by the arm and pulled him in.

  “Not here,” Tommy said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Burr shouted at him. “I could have done something had I known. You’ve just punched your ticket to life in prison.”

  “I didn’t kill her.”

  “But you did take the ferry there.”

  Tommy nodded.

  “How did you get back?”

  “On the last ferry.”

  Burr glared at Tommy. “Did you take the dinghy back from the island?”

  Tommy looked down at his shoes. “No. I took the ferry. I just told you that.”

  “Why didn’t anyone see you?”

  Tommy looked up. “I have no idea. The boat was packed. I don’t know.”

  Burr looked down at his own shoes.

  They still need polishing, but I look pretty good from the ankles up.

  He looked at Tommy.

  “I think that no one saw you because you didn’t take the ferry back. You killed Helen. You buried her on the island. Then you sent her boat off toward Milwaukee and took the dinghy back. It was risky, but if there were no seas, you could do it.” Burr took a step to Tommy, who backed into a coatrack. It wobbled but didn’t fall over.

  “No. That’s not what happened.”

  Burr put his hands in his pockets. “What exactly did happen?”

  “I took the ferry over. I was going to have it out with her. I knew she met her boyfriends there. I finally had enough. She didn’t throw it in my face, but we all knew. Karen was right about that, but I didn’t kill her.”

  Burr didn’t believe him. “What did you do?”

  “I took the ferry over. I got Helen’s attention and she came and got me. There was no one on board except Helen. We had it out, but I didn’t kill her. I swear I didn’t.”

  “It would have helped if you’d told me.”

  “I should have. I never thought it would come out.”

  Burr took his hands out of his pockets and leaned up against the coatrack. “Do you know who her boyfriends were?”

  “No.”

  I don’t believe you.

  Burr grabbed one of the hangers.

  I could stab him with this.

  Tommy backed away.

  “What about the records that Karen talked about?”

  Tommy shook his head. “I could never find anything.”

  “And the ring.”

  “I didn’t put it there.”

  This is a fine mess.

  Burr hung the hanger back on the coatrack. Then he pushed the whole thing over. It fell into another coatrack which fell into another and still another. They crashed to the floor, falling like dominoes. The noise was deafening.

  * * *

  Burr drove back to the Park Place. He picked up Zeke at valet parking, tipped the bellman a ten, then did what he always did when he didn’t know what to do. He drove. He rolled the window halfway down for Zeke, who stuck his nose out, still learning about life through his nose. At M-22, where this debacle had started, he turned north.

  Why couldn’t this have just stayed a civil lawsuit, a simple condemnation case. “Zeke, I’d much rather fight over money. It’s so much simpler.” He sighed.

  “And satisfying. Not to mention the money.”

  Burr looked out at the bay. The daylight was fading. The wind had died and the waves had become rollers, soft easy rollers. Zeke stuck his head all the way out the window when he saw a flock of bluebills skimming just above the tops of the waves.

  “It’s duck season, Zeke. This lunacy is almost over. We won’t miss it. I promise.”

  The next thing Burr remembered, he was in Northport, walking out of Buddy’s with a six-pack of Labatt and two sandwiches, ham and swiss on rye. There was no time for a ribeye, not now. Zeke ate his san
dwich right away.

  Burr parked in front of the shed, picked the lock and, armed with his six-pack and flashlight, fumbled around in the shed until he found Achilles.

  He borrowed a ladder, climbed aboard and sat on the fantail, Labatt in hand. “I’m going to search this boat stem to stern.”

  Three beers later, he hadn’t found a thing. One more beer and he’d need a nap. “It’s here. I can feel it.” He had a fourth beer. He laid down on the settee and shut his eyes. Then he sat up. Bolt upright.

  “I wonder if it’s here.”

  He climbed down the companionway and stumbled in the dark to the nav station. He opened the top drawer. It wasn’t there. Not in the middle drawer. No. He jerked open the third drawer. He fumbled through the jumble of papers. There it was. The logbook.

  Brooks didn’t care about it. He could have entered it in evidence, but when Burr said he didn’t want it. Brooks left it on board.

  He went back to the cockpit and opened his fifth beer. He held the flashlight in his mouth, shined it on the book and flipped through the pages.

  It was just like before. Dates with weather. May 30, SE at 5, clear skies. June 21, W at 10, rain. Then the last entry. June 9, SE at 5, clear skies. Entry after entry. Date, wind and weather. That’s all there was. Just the weather on the days Helen took Achilles out. Just the weather. He slammed the book shut.

  He finished his beer, then crushed the can in his hand.

  “Damn it all.”

  He reached for the last Labatt but thought better of it. He opened the book and flipped through the pages again. Then he studied them, one by one. Line by line. There were at least fifty entries over the past five years, but there were only about six different weather reports. There would be six or seven in a row all the same. Then the forecast would change. They might overlap but not for long. He slammed the logbook shut again. “Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe this is it.” Burr put the logbook in his pocket and drank his last beer.

  * * *

  Back at the Jeep, he let Zeke out. While the dog sniffed who-knows-what, Burr ate his own sandwich. It was after seven now, as dark outside as it had been inside. And cold. The October night had a damp chill and Burr hadn’t brought his overcoat. He buttoned his suit jacket and took the car phone out of the bag. He plugged it into the lighter, stuck the magnetic antenna on the roof and called Jacob at the Park Place. He prayed for a connection.