The Pink Pony

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The Pink Pony Page 27

by Charles Cutter

One more step.

  “Did you catch them, Anne? Is that when Murdo ran out the back door? Did Jimmy make fun of you? Or was he just not interested?”

  He could almost reach the flashlight.

  “Murdo didn’t kill Jimmy because he was jealous of you. You killed Jimmy because you were jealous of Murdo.”

  One more step and he could take the flashlight from her.

  “That’s why you wouldn’t testify. I was getting too close to the truth. So, you decided to sacrifice Murdo. You’re such a loving wife.”

  Burr lunged for the flashlight. Anne jumped away from him, but at least the flashlight wasn’t in his eyes.

  “You can’t prove it.”

  “Your fingerprints are on the lights.”

  “No, they’re not.”

  “Stanley Mueller says they are.”

  “So are everyone else’s on Mackinac Island.”

  “Mueller got them from the courtroom yesterday. Where you always sit.”

  She pulled a pistol out of her jacket and pointed it at him.

  “Come on, Anne. Isn’t this a bit dramatic?”

  “Does Martha know? I’m sure she’s suspicious.”

  “Keep this between us, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Put the gun away. I’m on my way to Aerie. But you knew that. Is Martha in on this? How about your husband? My guess is he’s your husband in name only.”

  Burr edged closer.

  “If you take another step, I’ll kill you.”

  “Just like Jimmy?”

  “He shouldn’t have made fun of me. We were just playing around until he made fun of me.”

  “So, you strangled him.”

  “I didn’t mean to. At first.” She kept the pistol on him. “There were so many people who had a reason to kill Jimmy. No one will ever believe it was me.”

  The clouds passed in front of the moon and what little light there was in the woods was gone.

  “Don’t move,” Anne said.

  “You’re not going to shoot me. You’re in the clear. Why get caught now?”

  “I won’t get caught. This is Worthy’s gun.”

  “Your fingerprints are on it. Just like the lights.”

  “I think I’ll start with your dog.” She pointed the pistol at Zeke and fired. Burr lunged at her, but she ducked underneath him. She turned and fired again. Burr leapt at her. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds. She was holding the gun with both hands, pointing it at him. “This could all have been so easy.”

  “Anne, that’s quite enough.” Anne turned. Burr jumped at her and knocked the pistol out of her hands.

  * * *

  “All rise,” Henry Crow said. Lindstrom entered from his chambers. “Be seated,” the bailiff said.

  Lindstrom addressed the jury. “Have you reached a verdict?”

  “We have,” Mrs. Gunthorpe, the foreman, said.

  “The defendant will stand,” Lindstrom said. Murdo stood and faced his twelve peers. He had on a winter-weight black suit with red and white pinstripes, a starched white shirt and a royal-blue tie with red diamonds. Anne, eye-popping in a belted, black wool dress with a scoop neck and a silver necklace. A stunning, if unhappy, couple.

  I guess the dress code doesn’t matter anymore.

  Lindstrom looked at Mrs. Gunthorpe. “How do you find?”

  “We find the defendant not guilty.”

  The courtroom didn’t erupt. Pandemonium didn’t break loose. No one seemed particularly surprised or particularly relieved. This is what they all thought was going to happen. At least since yesterday.

  Murdo looked at Anne. She nodded at him and left. He turned to Burr. “Thank you,” he said. Martha handed Burr a check and left with her son.

  Karpinen limped over. “Sudden death goal in overtime.”

  “I find that hockey is a metaphor for life,” Burr said.

  “It is, isn’t it,” Karpinen said.

  “Anne Halverson’s fingerprints are on the lights,” Burr said.

  “So are everyone else’s on Mackinac Island,” Karpinen said.

  “Worthy said he saw Anne strangle Jimmy,” Burr said.

  “I’ve had enough of Mackinac Island.” The prosecutor limped out.

  * * *

  Jacob, Eve and Aunt Kitty walked down the sidewalk and climbed into the carriage. Aunt Kitty waited on the sidewalk. Burr turned the key in the lock. He looked at the porch swing one last time. He and Zeke started to the carriage. They stopped next to Aunt Kitty.

  “Nephew, you did it again. I don’t know how, but you did.”

  “Well, it was…”

  “Don’t say a word. Not a word. You and Zeke are both lucky that the Cognac upset my stomach. Otherwise, I’d have never tried to walk it off, and if I hadn’t heard that gunshot, you might both be dead.”

  “Thank God she missed us both.”

  “I’m not finished, Burr. When it comes to women, you’re a fool. A complete fool. But you’re brilliant in a courtroom.” She started to the carriage, then turned back to him. “You’re the idiot savant of law.”

  Burr helped his aunt into the carriage and climbed in. He and Zeke sat next to her.

  “Does he ever stop shedding?” Jacob said.

  “How did you figure it out?” Eve said.

  “There was something cold about their marriage. Even by Grosse Pointe standards,” Burr said.

  “That’s hardly cause for murder,” Jacob said.

  “Toad started me wondering. I couldn’t figure out why Ronnie Cross was such a big secret. But it was Sidney Ravenswood that really got it going for me.”

  “All because you stole the pink pony,” Eve said.

  The carriage rolled down the hill to Main Street.

  “All this for a blasted hobby horse,” Jacob said.

  “When Ravenswood told me he saw a fat man lower it from the flagpole, I knew it was Stubby. My guess is it’s hanging in the Bayview Yacht Club.”

  “Do you think Martha knows about Murdo?” Eve said.

  “I’m sure she does,” Aunt Kitty said.

  “Do you think that Murdo and Anne wanted to have a baby?” Eve said.

  “Only if it was an immaculate conception,” Burr said.

  They passed the marina. Fujimo was gone.

  “But then things got too close for her. When I asked her about Ronnie Cross, she decided to sacrifice Murdo. That’s when she hired Dahlberg, and that’s why she wouldn’t testify.”

  “Do you think Dahlberg knew what was going on?” Eve said.

  “No. He was all wrapped in the legal ins and outs, not what really happened,” Burr said.

  Eve turned to Burr. “So, Jimmy was having an affair with Anne and Murdo.”

  “Not to mention Ronnie Cross,” Burr said.

  They went by The Pink Pony one last time. The chains swung in the breeze.

  There’ll be a new one next year.

  “I guess Karpinen’s going to be busy with Anne, Worthy, and Carole,” Eve said.

  “Somehow I don’t think so,” Burr said.

  “Why not?’ Eve said.

  “I think Karpinen has had enough of Mackinac Island, and there just isn’t enough proof.” The carriage stopped at the ferry dock. They all got out. Burr paid the driver and they walked across the dock to the ferry.

  “Where’s the justice in that?” Eve said.

  “They all had a part to play, and they’re all going to have to live with it. Especially Murdo and Anne. I think that’s about as much justice as we’re going to get.” Burr helped Aunt Kitty up the gangway.

  “At least we’ll be off this terrible island,” Jacob said.

  “After one more boat ride,” Eve said.

  Jacob shuddered.

  “I lo
ve Mackinac Island,” Burr said.

  The engines fired. The deckhand cast off. Burr and Zeke sat in the stern. The wind blew in their faces.

  A flock of canvasbacks flew just above the waves.

  “Zeke, there’s still some duck season left.”

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to:

  Jim Buehler, Dave Irish and Frank Shumway for their expertise on sailboats, sailboat racing and the Port Huron to Mackinac race.

  Bob Stocker for his advice about the intricacies of Michigan law.

  Carole Erbel for her knowledge and insights about Mackinac Island.

  Ellen Jones for her copy editing, sage advice, encouragement ... and deciphering the yellow-pad scratchings that were my first draft.

  Mark Lewison for his copy editing, story editing, unflagging attention to detail, and especially for his enthusiasm.

  John Wickham for the cover design.

  Bob Deck at Mission Point Press for the book’s interior design.

  Heather Shaw and Jodee Taylor at Mission Point Press for all their help with publicity and marketing.

  Doug Weaver at Mission Point Press for his calming voice and for keeping everything on schedule.

  Finally, and most importantly, thanks to my wife, Christi, for encouragement, support, tolerance, patience, and most of all, her love.

  They all made The Pink Pony a much better work than it otherwise would have been. Whatever shortcomings remain are my own.

  About the Author

  Mr. Cutter is a recovering attorney. He lives with his wife, two dogs and four cats in East Lansing. He has a leaky sailboat in Harbor Springs and a leakier duck boat on Saginaw Bay. In addition to the Burr Lafayette series, Mr. Cutter has written screenplays and literary fiction. He is at work on the next Burr Lafayette mystery.

  His books are available on Amazon and at your local bookstore.

  For additional information, please go to www.CharlesCutter.com.

  Also by Charles Cutter

  Copyright © 2020 by Charles Cutter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or by the publisher. Requests for permission should be made in writing to Mission Point Press, 2554 Chandler Road, Traverse City, Michigan, 49696.

  This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Mission Point Press

  2554 Chandler Rd.

  Traverse City, MI 49686

  (231) 421-9513

  www.MissionPointPress.com

  Print ISBN: 978-1-950659-63-0

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020910211

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition/First Printing

  Cover design: John Wickham

  Interior design and layout: Bob Deck

 

 

 


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