Poe's First Law: A Murder on Maui Mystery

by Robert W. Stephens

  “How did you know I was having Manhattans?”

  “Come on, Poe. That’s your drink.”

  “True.”

  “Did Yuto calling off the wedding really leave you that depressed?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t just that. It was some photographs I found that my client took. They’re of an underage girl.”

  “You’re talking about Guy Livingston?”

  “Yes. She’s just a child, Alana. I don’t know how someone can do something like that.”

  “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”

  “Thanks. I’m ready for you to lay into me over Hani seeing your father. I should have told you,” I said.

  “I’m not mad. After you left the room, Hani told us everything, at least I think it was everything. You never know with that girl. She put you into an impossible situation.”

  “Once I heard that the wedding was back on, I didn’t want anything to spoil the mood by revealing her secret meetings with your father.”

  “Mom is furious with Hani. I don’t know when she’ll speak to her again.”

  “Hani can’t catch a break,” I said.

  “Now I’m going to ask you to keep a secret.”

  “What is it?”

  “Promise not to tell?”

  “I promise.”

  “I don’t blame Yuto. I think he did the right thing.”

  I sat up in bed.

  “I do too. I think he’ll be happier in the long run. I didn’t say that to him today, but I wanted to.”

  “Hani seemed to be more upset that Foxx knew Yuto had dumped her. Can you believe that?” Alana asked.

  “Unfortunately, I can.”

  “What was Foxx’s reaction when Yuto told you guys?”

  “He was compassionate. He really likes Yuto. He’d just never admit it to anyone.”

  “Let’s get back to your case. You need to send me those photos.”

  “I will, but there’s something I need your help with.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Do you think you could get your hands on a boat?”

  27

  Surf’s Up

  When I first moved to Maui, I had dreams of becoming a world-class surfer. It was not to be. Despite Alana giving me multiple lessons, it soon became apparent that I lacked the coordination skills necessary to ride the waves. These days, my water activities are restricted to either swimming in the pool or the ocean.

  I like to think of myself as a creative fellow, so I decided to turn my weakness into a strength. I booked a surfing lesson with Kari, the next-door neighbor of Guy Livingston. If you’ll recall, she’d informed me during our one and only interaction that her family owned a surfing school.

  I learned during my follow-up phone call that she was home schooled. She completed her educational curriculum in the early mornings so she could spend the rest of the day working for her parents. I admired the young woman’s work ethic, but the truth needed to be confirmed.

  Their school was located in Kihei, not far from their home. I caught a taxi from my home in Kaanapali to Lahaina after performing my morning ritual of swimming and jogging. If you recall, I’d left my car at Harry’s after consuming too much alcohol the day before. After retrieving my little roadster, I made the pleasant drive along the coast, despite the raging headache that hadn’t disappeared, even after vigorous exercise.

  I found the surf school easily. There was a small shack on the beach with several longboards leaning against one of the walls. They were all a robin’s-egg blue, which I assumed made it easier for students to be located.

  After checking in and paying for the lesson, Kari escorted me to a flat surface of the beach where she went over the fundamentals of surfing. She was very pleasant, and I found her positive attitude infectious. The truth is that I felt a little guilty for what I was about to do.

  Kari taught me how to stand on the board, which is a fairly simple process that somehow escapes my abilities. For those of you who have never attempted the sport, you lie on your stomach and paddle like crazy as the wave approaches you. Once the board starts to accelerate from the movements of the wave, you pop up with both legs at the same time and stand. Couldn’t be easier, right? I wish.

  We practiced this pop-up technique several times on dry land. She complimented my form and generally seemed to be authentic in her praise. Finally, she declared me ready to try it on the waves. I stood and carried the board into the ocean. Kari came with me, of course, but she had a small board that was white with two yellow stripes that ran its length. She told me that she’d demonstrate the technique first, which she did. Watching her reminded me of my previous lessons with Alana. Kari was graceful and her form was effortless and smooth.

  She rode the wave into the shore. Then she hopped off and made a little splash in the water. She turned around and paddled back to me. I could have confronted her right then and there. Instead, I decided to postpone the discussion and instead made several attempts to surf. I wasn’t half bad.

  After about ten minutes had passed, I told her that I needed to catch my breath, which was partially true. We sat on the boards, which gently flowed back and forth with the waves, and we looked out toward the deep ocean.

  “Guy Livingston’s case has gone to the jury. Did you know that?” I asked.

  “No, I haven’t been following it.”

  “He asked me to investigate his case.”

  “I know. You told me when we met outside my house.”

  “It was an interesting case. Not the most complex one I’ve done, but I still didn’t come to the conclusion I thought it would.”

  I studied her for a reaction, but I didn’t get one. Kari seemed genuinely curious and I began to wonder if she was a borderline sociopath. The girl was only fifteen years old, which I’d discovered when Alana ran her name and had discovered she’d just gotten her learner’s permit. She should have been panicked by our discussion.

  “Guy originally hired me to find his wife’s stolen jewelry, only I learned it wasn’t actually stolen. Lucy faked a robbery with her lover and had him sell the necklace and bracelet on another island for quick cash.”

  “I didn’t know that,” she said.

  “After I told him about the affair, he went home, and his wife was dead just a few hours later. The police assumed it was him, but he swore he didn’t do it.”

  “I’m sure they all say that.”

  “They do, and most of them are lying. Still, I’ve had my share of innocent clients falsely accused, which is why I agreed to work with him again.”

  “Now you think he didn’t do it?” Kari asked.

  “Oh, I think he did, but not for the reasons that the police think.”

  “Why did he kill Mrs. Livingston then?”

  “You may not know this either, but one of the reasons Guy and Lucy moved to Maui was to start over. He’d had an affair where they used to live, and she left him. He eventually got her back, and that’s why he’d given her the necklace and bracelet. It was for their anniversary and it was a celebration of their new love.”

  “Pretty heartless of her to sell it then.”

  “I thought so too, and I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t question that behavior more. But I was hired to find the jewelry and I did. I think I got so caught up in the fake robbery scheme that I didn’t bother to look beyond that. Then Lucy was killed and that changed everything again.”

  “Why would you need to question her behavior? She did what she did.”

  “Yes, but Lucy obviously loved Guy. She had to love him enough to overlook the affair and be willing to move thousands of miles away to give their marriage another shot. A woman who would do that isn’t likely to then embark on her own affair and sell off a treasured anniversary gift.”

  Kari didn’t respond, so I continued.

  “I actually met with Lucy’s lover. His name’s Bret Hardy and he told me that she suspected Guy was having an affair again. He said that Lucy was so
convinced that he was cheating that she started to monitor his phone, his computer, even his credit card bills. But she couldn’t find any evidence.”

  “Maybe she got it wrong.”

  “That was a possibility, but I decided to explore it anyway. Guy had me convinced that he didn’t kill his wife. Actually, let me rephrase that. He opened my mind to the possibility that he didn’t do it. The way I saw it, if he didn’t kill his wife, then maybe his jealous lover did. So, I decided to find his lover and question her.

  “At first, I thought it was this woman named Bella Bridges. She was his business partner. A beautiful woman, but he hadn’t expressed any interest in her. She did provide one important piece of information, though. She said that they had their afternoons free since they performed their photoshoots in the early morning and early evening.

  “That’s when I realized why Lucy hadn’t been able to find any evidence of Guy’s affair. There was no evidence that she could see. He didn’t have anything on his credit card because he never took his lover to a hotel. She came to his house. He also never used his cell phone because there was no reason to. He saw her all the time. The computer was a slightly different story. There was nothing on his home computer, but his work computer had the evidence. Did you know, Kari, that today’s cameras store metadata on all the photos you take?”

  “I don’t really think about it much,” she said.

  “They do, and that’s how I was able to determine that Guy conducted a dozen photo sessions with his lover, all taken on the bed he shared with his wife.”

  “You saw those, huh?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “They don’t prove anything but the fact that I posed for him.”

  “Sure. I know that. But here’s what I think happened. You and Guy felt safe to conduct your affair during the afternoons since Lucy worked at a bank. Those are about as regular hours as you can get. She left work early the day she was murdered. She told the manager she was sick, but I think she’d figured out what her husband was doing. She went home early to catch him in the act, and she did. She must have been horrified when she realized her husband’s lover was an underage girl. He’d already done that before, and she was foolish enough to believe he wouldn’t do it again.”

  Kari paused a long moment.

  Then she said, “She threatened to turn him in for statutory rape. He panicked and he grabbed the gun from his nightstand.”

  “He shot her and then told you to go home.”

  “The idiot thought he could get away with it. He thought he could tell the cops that he found her like that, and they’d believe him.”

  “You realize you obstructed justice when you didn’t tell the police what you knew.”

  “What are they going to do to me? I’m a minor. I’m the victim here. Guy took advantage of my innocence.”

  “Your innocence?”

  “None of this matters anyway. He’s about to be convicted for murder and it’s your word against mine. We’re out in the ocean. No witnesses to our conversation,” she said.

  I pointed to a boat about fifty yards from us.

  “See that boat over there?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a detective onboard with a parabolic microphone. She’s recorded every word we’ve said. That’s why I shifted my board in this direction.”

  “Nice trick, if it’s true.”

  “Say hello to Alana. She’s quite the surfer too. She might even be able to show you a thing or two.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I appreciate the lesson, Kari. I think I’ll take the board in now.”

  Kari said nothing.

  I paddled the board back into shore. I didn’t attempt to ride the waves. I didn’t want to look like a fool after my conversation with Kari.

  I walked back to my car and retrieved my phone from the glove compartment. I dialed Alana’s number.

  “Did you get all of that?” I asked.

  “Loud and clear.”

  “What do you think will happen to her?”

  “Tough to say. I’ll give this recording to the DA’s office and they can decide what to do with it. She’s right when she said she’ll be viewed as one of the victims, at least that’s how her attorney will make it seem.”

  “You saw the photos I saw. She’s not so innocent.”

  “I agree, but the law’s the law. She’ll probably skate. Fortunately, the same can’t be said for Guy Livingston.”

  I ended the call with Alana and found a public restroom where I changed into dry clothes. I didn’t drive home to Kaanapali. Instead, I phoned Henry Mitchell, the attorney for Guy Livingston. He informed me that word had been sent out that the jury had reached their verdict. I told him that I’d meet him at the courtroom since I’d had a major breakthrough in the case. Yes, it was a cruel thing to give someone false hope, but I was in a cruel mood after having my theory confirmed.

  It was an easy drive to Kahului, and I arrived just moments before the jury came out. Guy’s eyes lit up when he saw me, apparently believing that I’d found an innocent sap to pin the crime on.

  “Hello, Guy. I guess I was wrong before when I said I wouldn’t be rushing to the courtroom with last-minute proof.”

  “What did you find?” Henry Mitchell asked.

  I removed my phone from my pocket and opened the photos application. Then I handed the phone to the attorney.

  “Looks like you were wrong when you said your client wasn’t lying about his innocence,” I said.

  Henry Mitchell looked at the phone. Then he looked at Guy Livingston.

  “What the hell is this?” Mitchell asked, and he showed the phone to Guy.

  “I can explain,” Guy said.

  “You’re done, Mr. Livingston. Enjoy your time in prison. You’ve more than earned it,” I said.

  I retrieved my phone and then walked to the back of the courtroom. I hung around long enough to hear the jury’s verdict: Guilty.

  28

  The Warehouse

  The rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent in a funk. I couldn’t shake how I’d allowed myself to get talked into helping Guy Livingston and I wondered if I was making the same mistake with Mele Akamu and her sidekick Samson. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’d questioned my involvement with her, and I made a promise to myself that I’d walk away from the investigation if my conversation with Stan Cross didn’t amount to much.

  I was so depressed that I thought about going upstairs to take a long nap and try to forget I’d ever encountered Guy Livingston and Mele Akamu. Fortunately, Foxx called and offered a welcome distraction. He told me that he’d tracked down Stan Cross and he wanted to know when I was available to interview our last known suspect. I told him I was available immediately, which is how I ended up in the Harry’s parking lot shortly thereafter.

  Foxx must have been on the lookout for me since he came out of the bar as I pulled into the parking lot. He unlocked his SUV’s door with the key fob. As I climbed onto the passenger seat, I saw Foxx pull a Glock out from the back of his pants and place it in the side pocket of the driver’s side door.

  “You’re bringing a gun?” I asked.

  “You’re not?”

  “No, I never bring one.”

  “Maybe you should start, especially after deciding to meet with a guy like Stan Cross.”

  Foxx started the vehicle and then backed out of the parking space. We exited the Harry’s lot and made our way over to Honoapiilani Highway for the drive to the center of the island.

  Foxx had learned that Stan Cross operated out of an old sugarcane plantation warehouse. Of course, that wasn’t his actual business. He had a diversified portfolio of illegal activities. Check that, alleged illegal activities since the police had been unable to make anything stick. The only person who seemed to have any kind of edge over him was Mele Akamu, and that advantage was quickly eroding, if it hadn’t completely vanished by now.

  “How do you
want to handle this? I doubt he’s going to admit to anything,” Foxx said.

  “You never know. He probably didn’t reach his level of success by being modest and withdrawn. He may want to talk freely and rub our noses in it.”

  “Rub our noses in it? You mean that we’re working for Mele Akamu and he wants us to know he’s beaten us?”

  “Something like that. But it won’t just be about us paying attention to his answers. We also need to observe how he talks. Obvious lies can be just as revealing as someone telling you the truth.”

  “Good point. Kind of like when a girl I was dating recently asked if I was still seeing other people. I said no, which wasn’t exactly accurate,” Foxx said.

  “What did she do?”

  “She picked her purse up off the table and walked out of my house without saying another word.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. I wasn’t that into her. Maybe that’s why my little white lie was so unconvincing.”

  I laughed.

  “Are you ever going to settle down, Foxx?”

  “That’s funny. I’m surprised you’d ask me that, especially after this Hani-Yuto mess. Marriage isn’t for me. Too much drama.”

  “I don’t know about that. My good moments with Alana are way more frequent than any fights we might have.”

  “Yeah, but most of your fights are about her family. You don’t just marry the woman, Poe. You marry the whole clan.”

  “There’s a lot of truth to that.”

  “I know there is. But I’ve got Ava. I’ve got friends. I’ve got a successful business. What more do I really need?” Foxx asked.

  I didn’t respond since the answer was obvious. Foxx was a happy man. He didn’t really need anything else. He’d always been that way, though, at least as far back as I could remember. Foxx is the ultimate optimist and I didn’t see that ever changing.

  “You know we never got much of a chance to talk about Yuto’s bombshell since we went right into drinking mode after he left,” Foxx continued.

  “Don’t remind me. I may have to swear off Manhattans for a while. My head still hurts.”