Poe's First Law: A Murder on Maui Mystery

by Robert W. Stephens

  Apikalia had told me it was for a mural they wanted to create for the lobby.

  “I’m glad you like it,” she said.

  “I love it.”

  Mental note number two: Double the size of the check I’d already intended to write, which I realized was the whole point of the sign. Sometimes we’re all okay with being blatantly manipulated.

  “Not that I mind, but it’s a little early for a visit. Your questions must involve one of your investigations,” she said.

  “Good guess and you’re correct.”

  “Come on inside. We can talk in my office.”

  I followed Apikalia into the building. She locked the door behind us since the place wasn’t officially open for a couple more hours. I could hear a handful of dogs barking in the back.

  “I don’t know how you get used to being around that much barking all day long,” I said.

  “You learn how to tune it out, believe it or not.”

  We walked inside her office, which had a colorful collection of photographs of dogs and cats on the walls. One of the photos was of Maui and it was the same one that was featured on the outdoor sign. Let the manipulation games continue.

  “What’s this investigation you’re working on? I’ve always been intrigued by them,” she said.

  “A recently discovered murder that actually occurred several years ago.”

  “Is this about that body they found on north Maui.”

  “The one and the same. A man found human remains when he was walking his dog. To be more precise, he told the police that he let his dog off the leash and the dog found the bones. I met with the man yesterday, but I noticed something strange when I went to his apartment.”

  “What was strange about it?”

  “I didn’t see any sign that he owned a dog. He also told me that his dog was being neutered, but I called all the vet clinics and none of them have a record of the dog.”

  “That is odd. Why would he lie about that?”

  “Good question. He obviously had the dog at some point since I think the police would have noticed if he didn’t have a dog when they interviewed him by the human remains.”

  “You think he might have dropped the dog here?” she asked.

  “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. The man’s name was Daniel Davis.”

  “Was? Did something happen to him?”

  It was a slip of the tongue and I instantly regretted saying it.

  “He had an accident early this morning. He drowned while surfing.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “That’s where I was right before I called you. Alana got the call about the drowning. She wanted me to help ID the body since I’d recently met him.”

  “Let me see if I can find his name in our database,” she said, and she rotated her body toward a desktop computer.

  I watched as she typed the name Daniel Davis into the search bar.

  “Yes, we have a record of him. He adopted a black lab from us about a week ago. He brought the dog back the very next day.”

  “Do you know why?” I asked.

  “No, we don’t make a note of that, but I could make a few guesses. Sometimes the dog can be wild, and they don’t want to take the time to train it. Maybe the spouse didn’t know the person was adopting the animal and they demand they return it. Sometimes they don’t check with their landlord first.”

  “Yes, it could be any of those reasons. Does it say if the dog was neutered or not?”

  Apikalia looked at the screen again.

  “Yes, he was neutered months ago. I don’t know why Mr. Davis would have told you that his dog needed to be.”

  “What was the date the dog was adopted?”

  Apikalia told me and I recognized it as the same day the remains of Eric Ellis had been found.

  “Does it say the time of day Daniel returned him?”

  “Yes, we log the time and date. It says here he was brought back to the center at eleven-thirty in the morning. So, technically, he had the dog less than twenty-four hours. The dog’s still here if you know of a good home for him.”

  “Not off the top of my head but I’ll ask around,” I said.

  “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”

  “Good, but I’m not sure how that can help with your investigation.”

  “Believe me when I say that it did.”

  It was obvious what had happened. Daniel Davis had adopted the dog for the sole purpose of having it find the body the next morning. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d dragged the dog to the body and shoved Eric’s arm bone into the dog’s mouth.

  I made another mental note to ask Alana to follow up on something for me. Daniel had been enticed to lie for some reason and I assumed that reason was probably money. That meant there would be a paper trail of some sort. Hopefully, it was one that we could follow.

  I drove home and completed my morning routine of swimming in the pool and jogging around the neighborhood. Afterward, I took Maui on a long walk and told him that his photo now adorned the sign of the animal center. He reacted the way I thought he would. Total and complete indifference. In fact, he was more interested in a bird that had landed on the road several feet in front of us.

  I spent the rest of the day thinking about the Eric Ellis case and going over my notes from the various interviews I’d conducted with Foxx. Speaking of Foxx, I’d texted him after my meeting with Apikalia and informed him of both Daniel Davis’ alleged drowning, as well as his one-day adoption of the black lab.

  I received a call shortly after lunch from a surprise source. Care to take a guess? It was Detective Josh Parrish. He requested a meeting with me and suggested Harry’s as the location. I called Alana after getting off the phone with Detective Parrish.

  She told me that she’d informed him of Daniel Davis’ death and my suspicions that he’d been paid to find Eric Ellis’ body. She said that he didn’t have much of a response, including any perceived anger at the fact I’d ignored his orders to stop my investigation.

  I left the house around three in the afternoon for the short drive to my bar. Foxx was there, but I asked him not to take part in the meeting with Detective Parrish. I didn’t want him to know that I had help with my investigation so Foxx’s further movements could hopefully go unnoticed.

  Detective Parrish arrived at Harry’s around half past three. He spotted me in one of the back booths and walked over.

  “Mind if I have a seat?” he asked in a neutral tone.

  “Not at all. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, I’m good,” he said, and he sat down. “Let me get right to the point. Detective Hu told me about Daniel Davis. She also told me about your suspicions regarding him.”

  “What are your thoughts on that?”

  “It’s basically in line with your way of working, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said.

  “I’ve heard things about you. You see conspiracies everywhere.”

  “I disagree. I’ve never blown an investigation. Not one.”

  “That’s the thing, though. This isn’t your investigation. It’s mine, but we’ve already had this conversation a couple of times.”

  “Is this where you arrest me again?” I asked.

  “No. I’ll admit that I crossed the line before. This case is a big deal for me, though. It can make or break my career. Put yourself in my shoes for once. How would you feel if some unpredictable investigator were running around the island trying to undo everything you’ve done?”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “It’s not? I have Mele Akamu and Samson Opunui nailed for this crime and you’re doing your best to prove they didn’t do it. How do you think that’s not undermining me?” he asked.

  “You do realize your eyewitness is lying, don’t you? She admitted it to me.”

  “I always knew she wasn’t enough. The s
oon-to-be ex-wife of Mele’s grandson? No, she’s too weak of a witness, but I don’t really need her.”

  He paused, which I assumed was for dramatic effect.

  Then he continued, “We found the gun that shot Eric Ellis late yesterday. Detective Hu doesn’t even know that yet.”

  “Where did you find it?” I asked.

  “I don’t have to share that information with you, but I will. We found it inside a wall safe hidden behind a bookcase in Mele Akamu’s house. I had to search the house three times before I found it. There was also a stack of cash and a fake passport for both her and Samson Opunui. So you see, Oleen Akamu can fall apart on the witness stand for all I care. I have the gun and the ballistics report to match it to the bullet we found in Eric Ellis’ skull. It’s game over. Do yourself a favor and bow out before your perfect record goes bye-bye. No one will blame you one bit. Everyone on this island knows Mele Akamu is a criminal, and soon they’ll know she’s a murderer.”

  Detective Parrish slid out of the booth and stood. He looked around the bar and then turned back to me.

  “You and your partner have a nice place here. If I was you, I’d stick to slinging cocktails and leave the criminal investigations to the police. You’ll probably be a happier man.”

  He walked away and exited the bar before I had a chance to respond, not that I wanted to say anything anyway.

  Foxx approached me a few moments later.

  “I didn’t expect him to say that.”

  “No, I didn’t either,” I said.

  Foxx slid onto the seat opposite me. I picked my phone up off my seat and placed it on the table between us. I’d dialed Foxx’s number right after seeing Detective Parrish enter Harry’s. I could have simply repeated everything the detective had told me, but I wanted to get another opinion on the tone of the conversation. Foxx had listened to it while in the back office.

  “A safe hidden behind a bookcase. What made him look there?” Foxx asked.

  “I’m guessing Gracie Ito told Detective Parrish the same thing she told us. That Eric had stolen records of Mele Akamu’s business dealings. Parrish is obviously an ambitious guy. He’s not content to arrest her for murder. He wants to take down her entire business empire.”

  “Which is why he assumed there had to be a safe somewhere in the house.”

  “There’s one thing that’s really bothering me about all of this,” I said.

  “I know what you’re going to say. Why would Mele Akamu be so foolish as to keep the gun? I think I have an answer for that.”

  “Which is?”

  “You heard how long it took Parrish to find the safe. Maybe she thought there was no way anyone would ever locate it, so she didn’t see the need to throw away the weapon,” Foxx said.

  “It’s possible. But guns are relatively inexpensive. She could have easily replaced it.”

  “Maybe there was some sentimental value to it.”

  “To a gun?”

  “You know what we should do? We need to find out who knew about the safe. This could still be a set-up.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “I hope you’re not letting that guy get to you. Don’t let him tell you what to do,” Foxx continued.

  “It’s not Detective Parrish. I’m just doubting my theory.”

  “That’s understandable. Want me to call Tavii and ask him about the safe?”

  “No. He’ll be calling us soon.”

  “You think so?”

  “As far as he knows, I quit his grandmother’s case, and now the police have even more solid evidence against her. He’ll be in touch, and when he does, we’ll have more of an angle to use as leverage.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  I looked at my watch. It was officially late afternoon and the perfect time for a Manhattan. I knew I could use one.

  23

  The Photographer

  After finishing my cocktail, I phoned Henry Mitchell, the lawyer for Guy Livingston. Despite my contentious interview with Bret Hardy, I still felt like I wasn’t giving the case enough attention.

  “Mr. Rutherford, please tell me you’ve made a major breakthrough in the case.”

  “I wish I could.”

  “Closing arguments are tomorrow. I’ve got nothing. Guy is going to prison. There’s not a doubt in my mind.”

  “I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”

  “Have you made any progress?” the lawyer asked

  “A little, which is why I’m calling. I was told that Lucy Livingston started her affair after coming to believe that Guy was cheating on her. Do you know anything about that?”

  “I heard the same thing, but Guy told me it wasn’t true. He admitted to one before they moved to Maui, though.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “Not about that. I thought he was lying.”

  “How sure are you?”

  “No one can be one hundred percent sure of anything, but I’m about as close as you can get.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s what I told you when we first talked. I’ve been in this game a long time. I can tell when someone is lying. Guy Livingston may have had an affair, but I still don’t think he killed his wife.”

  “If he did cheat on Lucy, who do you think it was with?” I asked.

  “That’s an easy one. His photography assistant, Bella Bridges. Once you get a look at her, you’ll understand.”

  “Did your previous investigator speak with Bella?”

  “Yes, because I told him to. He said he didn’t learn anything useful and he dropped it.”

  “Can you send me her number? Maybe I can get something out of her,” I said.

  “Sure thing. I’ll text it to you in a minute. Do me a favor and try to meet with her tonight. I need something for my closing.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  I ended the call with Henry Mitchell, and the contact listing for Guy’s assistant came through a moment later. I phoned her and she told me she had a photography assignment she was leaving for, so we arranged a later time to meet in the lobby of one of the Kaanapali hotels.

  I didn’t feel like hanging out at Harry’s until then. Instead, I said goodbye to Foxx and Kiana and drove home. I took Maui on a long walk and used the time to think about what I’d learned regarding the Eric Ellis case. I still had a hard time believing that Mele Akamu would have held onto the gun, even if the safe were as well-hidden as it seemed to be. Still, I knew people who’d committed far dumber acts and Mele Akamu wasn’t perfect.

  My meeting time with Bella Bridges approached and I hopped into the car for the short drive to the hotel. I put the car in valet and then entered the lobby. It took all of three seconds to spot her. Her photography kit was an easy tell, and she’d done a good job of describing her attire: red polo shirt, black shorts, and black baseball cap put on backwards. The hat did little to hide the long blonde hair that spilled out past her shoulders. I guessed her age at around forty. She was a real looker.

  “Ms. Bridges,” I said as I walked up to her.

  “You must be Edgar Rutherford.”

  We shook hands.

  “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me. How did your photoshoot go?”

  “It went well. We often do these shoots in the early evening as the sun is starting to set.”

  “I think I caught some of that beautiful light on the drive over here,” I said. “Would you mind if we go to an area of the lobby that’s a little less crowded?”

  “No problem.”

  We walked to the back of the lobby where we found a small table with a great view of the ocean. The area was relatively quiet, and I assumed most of the hotel guests were in their rooms preparing to go out for dinner.

  “I was a little surprised when you called me. I was already interviewed by an investigator,” she said.

  “I know, and I appreciate your indulgence. I picked up this case rather late in the process. I have just a few questions and won’t t
ake up much of your time.”

  “No problem. What did you want to know?”

  “How long did you and Guy work together?” I asked.

  “Just shy of three years. He hired me to be his assistant when his work started taking off. I’d been dabbling with photography for a while, but I was nowhere ready to go out on my own.”

  “Just curious. What did you do before photography?”

  “I had a string of restaurant jobs on the island. I don’t know if you’ve ever worked in that industry, but it can really wear you out. I was desperate to start something new.”

  “I have worked those jobs, and you’re right, they’re not fun,” I said.

  “Then you know how taking photos on the beach is a big step up.”

  “Absolutely. I assume you’re now taking over the business.”

  “That’s right. The hotels like our work and our service. They started calling me directly once Guy got arrested.”

  “How was Guy to work for?”

  “He was great. Very patient. He taught me a lot.”

  “How well did you know his wife, Lucy?” I asked.

  “Not well. We only met a couple of times. She never came to the photoshoots and Guy and I liked to keep our personal lives separate.”

  “Meaning you didn’t go to dinner with the couple or things like that?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Was that decision his or yours?”

  “His, I guess.”

  “Did you find that odd?”

  “Not really. Some people like to keep work and play separate. I respect that.”

  “What was your typical workday like?” I asked.

  “We’d do photoshoots in the early morning. After that, we’d go back to our office in Lahaina and download all of the footage. We’d select the best photos and run them through Photoshop. If we had a lot of work, we’d stay in the office in the early afternoon. Then we’d go home to rest for a few hours, then meet again for the sunset shoots.”

  “So your late afternoons were usually open?”

  “Almost always. It’s hottest during the day then and the light can be harsh.”

  “Do you know where Guy would go during those hours?”

  “I assume he’d go home. We didn’t really talk about it.”