Poe's First Law: A Murder on Maui Mystery

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Poe's First Law: A Murder on Maui Mystery Page 2

by Robert W. Stephens


  “So, you’re admitting that he might have said the words, ‘But I won’t.’ That is what you just said, isn’t it?” Mitchell asked.

  “No. That’s not what I said.”

  He went after me from several different angles, all of which were designed to trick me into admitting that I’d recounted the conversation incorrectly. It didn’t work. Of course, there’s the tried and true theory that if you repeat a lie many times, people will start to believe it. I’m not foolish enough to think that all of the members of the jury saw through his little act.

  After leaving the courthouse, I walked outside and climbed into my silver BMW Z3 convertible. I’d bought the car from Foxx shortly after moving to Maui. I popped the top back to take in some sun and then selected music by Oscar Peterson, the Canadian pianist and composer.

  The first song that came on the playlist was “Lush Life,” sung by the incomparable Ella Fitzgerald. That was followed by “Just One of Those Things” by Oscar Peterson and Louis Armstrong. I didn’t start playing air keyboards, at least with one hand, until “Love for Sale” came on.

  The music certainly isn’t island music, but it’s nourishment for my soul. That is the point of music, isn’t it? The songs also blended in nicely with the blue sky and blue ocean one sees while driving down the coast. Before I knew it, I was pulling into my driveway and all the negative thoughts of Guy Livingston and his attorney, Henry Mitchell, had washed away.

  I parked inside the garage to keep the sun from melting the car’s black leather seats. When I opened the door to the kitchen, I was greeted by my dog, Maui. He was sitting by the kitchen island, his tail wagging a million miles per hour.

  “Hey, Maui. It feels like several months since I’ve seen you,” I said.

  In reality, it had been all of four hours.

  Maui trotted over to me and did his world-famous tuck and roll. This is basically when he transitions from his happy-you’re-finally-home dance into a position on his back for the expected and demanded belly rub. I kneeled on the kitchen tiles and scratched away.

  Maui wasn’t the only thing I noticed when I walked in the house. Those lovely and calming tunes from Oscar Peterson had been replaced by Britney Spears’ music blaring from every room. We have a high-end entertainment system that can play music throughout the house. It’s all controlled with an app on our phones.

  I don’t mean to sound disrespectful to Ms. Spears. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman, but the presence of her music in my house told me one thing. Alana was stressed since she only tends to play pop music at that volume when she’s upset.

  I found her apparent distress kind of ironic considering that she’d just started a two-week vacation. Her sister, Hani Hu, was due to be married soon, and Hani had asked Alana to take some time off to help her with last-minute details.

  You may suspect that I immediately went looking for Alana. I didn’t. We’ve been married for a while and I’ve learned to give her some space during times like this. Instead, I walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a Negra Modelo, one of my beers of choice. I popped the top and took a long drink.

  “Any more of those in there?” Alana asked.

  I turned and saw her walking down the stairs. She was dressed in a white tank top and white shorts. The shorts were a little shorter than usual, which showcased those long, tan legs of hers. I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d landed such a hot wife, but that’s usually what I think of when I set eyes upon her.

  “There are a few more beers. Want just one or should I hand you two?” I asked.

  “Why would I want two?”

  “What’s that? I can’t hear you over the loud music.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Alana said, and she pulled her phone out of her pocket. She adjusted the volume to a level that didn’t make my head want to explode.

  I handed Alana her beer as she walked into the kitchen.

  “How did the trial go?” she asked.

  “Fine. I’m still in one piece.”

  I gave Alana the rundown on the defense attorney’s cross-examination.

  “He really accused you of forgetting what was said? Wait. Forget I asked that question. He’s a defense attorney.”

  “Sure, but what else was he going to do? His client’s obviously guilty.”

  “Sounds like we both had rough mornings,” she said.

  At this point, I secretly congratulated myself on predicting Alana’s foul mood. There were very few people who could get her upset. I’m one of them, but I felt pretty confident I wasn’t the offending party in this situation. That left two likely suspects. Hani and Ms. Luana Hu, Alana’s mother. My money was on the mother.

  “Hani came by this morning.”

  And there went my perfect record of predictions for the day.

  “Oh, what did she want?” I asked.

  “You know about the party Yuto is throwing.”

  I did and I found it rather odd. Hani and Yuto’s wedding was just two weeks away, yet Yuto had decided that he wanted to throw a party for Hani a week before the big event. He’d said that he had a surprise for her. No one knew what that surprise was, though. I certainly didn’t, which had offended me slightly. Why? Because Yuto had asked if we could have the party at our house. You’d think he could have at least let me in on the surprise, but he’d refused.

  “What about the party?” I asked.

  “Well, Hani came by this morning to talk about the catering.”

  “I thought we had that settled. We’re using the same company we used for the last party.”

  “That’s what I thought, but apparently Hani wasn’t happy with them,” Alana said.

  “That’s a surprise. Everyone seemed to like them.”

  “Exactly. She told me that she’s already hired a replacement, but we’re going to lose the deposit I put down on the first one.”

  “How much?”

  “Five hundred dollars. Can you believe that?”

  “I’d just drop it. It’s not worth the argument.”

  “It’s five hundred dollars, Poe.”

  “I get it.”

  “Your problem is you have no sense of money because of how much you’re worth.”

  “First of all, we’re worth that much. Your name is on all of those financial accounts. Second, I do know what things are worth, and five hundred bucks is a steal if it keeps your little sister happy.”

  “When you put it that way.”

  “Was that the only argument? Something tells me there was more to it,” I said.

  Alana took a long drink of her beer.

  “That good, huh?” I said.

  “We argued about Foxx.”

  “Let me guess. You told her that she should invite Foxx to the party, and she said no.”

  “Well, Mr. Investigator, you’re exactly right.”

  “I thought things were getting much better between the two of them.”

  For those new readers, Foxx and Hani had a fling a while back. Foxx had ended the brief relationship, only for Hani to realize later that she was pregnant. Everyone thought they would give it another shot, but Foxx was convinced it would never work.

  After Ava was born, their relationship continued to have its ups and downs. They’d hit a seriously rough patch for a while where they wouldn’t even acknowledge the existence of the other person.

  That changed after Foxx had suffered a near-death experience. I won’t say their relationship was great now, but at least they were talking again. I hadn’t heard about a fight in a few months, which was a world record for them.

  “I thought so too,” Alana said. “But she won’t invite him. She said she’s worried he’ll drink too much and say something to offend Yuto.”

  “And Foxx lives a few houses down from us, which means he’ll see and hear the party and wonder why he’s not here.”

  “No, he won’t wonder. He’ll know exactly why he’s not here and I worry it will wipe away any gains they’ve made. I told her that Ava deserves parents
who aren’t at each other’s throats.”

  “What did she say to that?” I asked.

  “She told me to mind my own business. Then she stormed out.”

  And that’s when Britney Spears started singing, I thought.

  “I can talk to Foxx if you like and explain the situation to him. He might be secretly happy that he doesn’t have to come to the party,” I said.

  “I don’t believe that for a second. Foxx puts up a good front, but you told me he was hurt the last time he wasn’t invited.”

  “What would you like to do then?”

  “Maybe I should call Mom. Maybe she can talk some sense into Hani.”

  “Your mother hates Foxx. She hates me too.”

  Alana said nothing.

  “You’re not going to even try to deny it?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry I even brought my mother up.”

  “There is one thing I could do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Talk to Yuto. He’s having more and more sway over Hani these days and I really think he and Foxx have put their differences aside for Ava’s sake. He might be willing to convince her to invite Foxx.”

  “If you asked him, he would,” Alana said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means Yuto follows you around like Maui does. He looks up to you.”

  “Looks up to me? He and I are the same age.”

  “That has nothing to do with it. He envies your personality.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, so I said nothing.

  “You’ll make the call then?” Alana asked.

  “I’ll call him after lunch. I’m starving right now.”

  “You know, this is my first day of vacation. I’m supposed to be relaxing. I was hoping we could go upstairs and relieve some of my stress. But if you’re too hungry…”

  “Who said I was hungry? Lead the way,” I said, and I smiled.

  3

  A New Friend

  I spent the rest of the afternoon hanging outside by the pool in my backyard. Maui came with me and he alternated his time between exploring every inch of the yard for possible intruders and snoozing in the shade under the patio umbrella. He snored for about an hour until I dove in the pool to swim a few laps.

  I think he sometimes feels left out when I’m in the water and he’s not. Often, I’ll put him in the pool with me so he can swim around for a while. Then I place him on top of my raft so he can float. I’m convinced the neighbors think I’m nuts for doing that.

  The evening was just as productive. After lovely blackened tuna steaks and glasses of white wine, Alana and I retired to the living room to watch television. I won’t mention the programs we watched since I’m too embarrassed. I’m pretty sure we managed to kill a few brain cells. Eventually, I had to put my earbuds in and listen to Oscar Peterson again. I simply couldn’t stand the screeching of the reality show cast members yelling at each other anymore.

  The next morning, I awoke a bit earlier than usual and did my morning ritual of a swim in the pool, followed by a three-mile jog around the neighborhood. I then took Maui on a long walk. The weather was perfect, as it usually was – seventy-five degrees, sunny, and a nice breeze coming off the ocean.

  I was almost back to my house when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw the name Mara Winters on the display. Mara’s my personal attorney and sometimes employer. She represents some of the wealthiest clients on the island who are often in need of a private investigator who can keep his mouth shut.

  “Good morning, Mara. What can I do for you?”

  “Mr. Rutherford, how are you doing today?”

  We’d known each other for years, yet she still insisted on calling me Mr. Rutherford.

  “I can’t complain. Just walking the dog and taking in this fine weather.”

  “Say hello to Maui for me,” Mara said.

  “I will. He sends his best as well.”

  “A friend of yours called me this morning. She wants to know if we can meet as soon as possible.”

  I searched my mind for who she might have been talking about but came up empty.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Mele Akamu.”

  I didn’t respond, mainly because a million questions raced through my mind. The prime one being, how can I get out of this?

  “Not who you were expecting?” Mara asked.

  “No, can’t say it was. Did she tell you what she wants?”

  “No. In typical fashion, she asked that we come to her home to meet. She said she’d explain everything there.”

  “Doesn’t Mrs. Akamu already have an attorney?”

  “Yes, and I know the man. He has a reputation for being ruthless.”

  “I would expect nothing less from her lawyer.”

  “Mrs. Akamu specifically stated that I need to bring you, which tells me one thing. She needs an investigator.”

  “Or more likely her grandson does,” I said, referring to Tavii Akamu, a man I’d met in my last major investigation.

  “That’s certainly a possibility. Is there a specific time that works best for you?”

  Had I actually agreed to the meeting? Apparently.

  “How about eleven this morning?”

  “That’s good for me. I’ll phone Mrs. Akamu and suggest that time. I’ll text you to confirm everything.”

  “Thanks, Mara. I guess I’ll be seeing you shortly.”

  I ended the call with Mara. Things were about to get interesting. By the time I got out of the shower and had put on fresh clothes, I saw that Mara had texted to confirm the meeting.

  Although I’d lived on Maui for several years, I hadn’t heard of Mele Akamu until recently. As I mentioned before, I’d met her grandson Tavii during my last case. Tavii is the Mayor of Maui County. His term was up soon, and I’d heard that he didn’t intend to run again for reasons that are obvious if you’ve read my tale Rich and Dead.

  When I’d asked Alana if she knew who Mele Akamu was, she’d responded with shock that I’d never heard of the “godmother” of Maui. I’d driven to Mrs. Akamu’s home during that case, expecting to find an intimidating woman. I don’t mean to imply that she doesn’t instill fear in many people. She apparently does, but she reminded me of my grandmother on my mother’s side.

  I couldn’t help but take a liking to the woman, and for some unknown reason, she seemed to like me as well. She’d ended our last encounter by informing me that she believed, “You and I will be friends.” Perhaps she’d decided to cash in on that friendship already.

  Mrs. Akamu lives in Kula, which is one of the areas in Maui’s upcountry. Her house sits on the slopes of the famous Mount Haleakala, and it has breathtaking views of the valley and the ocean beyond that.

  I stuck with Oscar Peterson for the long drive from Kaanapali and got through his songs, “Georgia On My Mind,” “Almost Like Being in Love,” “I Was Doing All Right,” and “There Will Never Be Another You.”

  I spotted Mara’s car as I pulled onto the turnaround in front of Mrs. Akamu’s house. She climbed out of her vehicle and walked over to me as I turned off the ignition. Mara is a tall woman with dark red hair that is almost always pulled back. Even the attorneys in Maui dress casually but not Mara. She was wearing her customary business suit.

  “Hello, Mara.”

  “Was that Oscar Peterson I heard?”

  “It certainly was,” I said, and I got out of the roadster.

  “Excellent choice.”

  “I thought so. Ready for our meeting?” I asked.

  “As ready as one can be.”

  We walked toward the house and a moment later, Mrs. Akamu’s elderly butler opened the door. I’d met Samson on my previous visits. I’d also learned the man had a vicious streak and sometimes worked as Mrs. Akamu’s muscle. The lesson? Don’t underestimate the elderly.

  “Good morning, Samson. How are you today?” I asked.

  “I’m well, sir. And you?
” Samson asked in a low tone that was barely above a whisper.

  “Couldn’t be better.”

  “Mrs. Akamu is expecting you both. Please follow me.”

  Samson led us through the house and out the sliding glass doors in the back. They opened to reveal that spectacular view I mentioned a while back. As in our previous meetings, Mrs. Akamu was seated beside a large fire pit that was in the center of a patio. There was a tall pot on each corner that was filled with the gorgeous Birds of Paradise flowers.

  Also, as before, Mele Akamu didn’t stand to greet us.

  “Mrs. Akamu,” I said, and I nodded.

  “Hello, Mr. Rutherford, Ms. Winters. Please have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” Mara said.

  We both sat down.

  “Is there anything you need, Mrs. Akamu?” Samson asked.

  “No, Samson. That will be all.”

  I know what you’re thinking. Did I find it odd that Mrs. Akamu didn’t offer us a drink or some other refreshment? Not at all, mainly since she’d never done that before.

  “So, Mrs. Akamu, how may we be of service?” Mara asked.

  “As you know, Ms. Winters, the Akamu family already has an attorney. However, it’s my understanding that you have a good relationship with the police department. I’ve also been told that if I want the services of Mr. Rutherford, then I would hire him through you.”

  “I don’t have an exclusive agreement with Mr. Rutherford, but many of his cases have come through me. As far as my relationship with the police department, I don’t know that I have one that’s any more positive than any other attorney on the island. We often find ourselves on opposite sides,” Mara said.

  “I understand, but it’s certainly better than the relationship my attorney has with them. I’d like to hire you and Mr. Rutherford to look into a matter for me. It’s rather sensitive. May I assume that attorney-client privilege applies here?” Mrs. Akamu asked.

 

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