Poe's First Law: A Murder on Maui Mystery

say this with all frankness. Either you’ve hit your head sometime in the past or you have the world’s most bizarre way of viewing reality. I spoke the truth on the witness stand. I don’t owe Guy Livingston or you anything. It’s not my fault your client is guilty.”
“That’s the thing, though. He’s not guilty,” Mitchell said.
“What are you basing this on?”
“He told me.”
“Well then, let’s unlock the jail cell and let Guy Livingston go free. He said he’s innocent. He must be.”
“I can appreciate a good sarcastic remark as much as anyone, but you’ve got this all wrong. When you’ve done this job as long as I have, you start to get pretty good at knowing when people are lying to you.”
“Sure, but you weren’t there when I told him about his wife’s affair. The man was enraged.”
“As you would have been if the situation was reversed.”
“But I wasn’t the one who told his investigator that he was going to shoot his wife. I also wasn’t the one who was found beside her dead body a few hours later.”
“He was found there because he’s the one who discovered the body in their house and called the police.”
“You can spin this however you want. The man’s getting convicted. Goodbye, Mr. Mitchell, and good luck with your case. You’re going to need it,” I said.
“I apologize for the way I treated you in court. Is that what you need to hear?”
“No, I don’t need your apology.”
“Would you just do this for me? Would you meet with Guy today? Hear what he has to say. If you’re still convinced that he’s guilty, then walk away.”
I don’t know what convinced me to change my mind. Perhaps it was my desire to fill my head with something that didn’t have to do with Sora Hu and Hani and Yuto’s wedding, but I agreed to meet Guy Livingston and Henry Mitchell in the early afternoon.
I spent the rest of the morning working out. I doubled the usual length of my swim and run. I took Maui on a long walk and I spent a solid hour doing background research on Gracie Ito, the former girlfriend of the murdered Eric Ellis. I found some social media accounts for her, but there wasn’t much of interest in them. I did learn she leaned hard to one political side of the spectrum. Of course, I wouldn’t dream of telling you which way since I do my best not to let politics enter these tales.
After a late lunch, I climbed into the BMW convertible and drove to the Maui jail. I’d been there far too many times in the past. I’d even been a guest myself on a few occasions.
I found Henry Mitchell waiting for me in the parking lot. He thanked me for coming and then we entered the building where we were escorted to the visitor area to meet Guy Livingston.
I expected Guy to hurl some insult at me, maybe even threaten me. He didn’t. Instead, he thanked me for coming as well.
“I’m really hoping you can get me out of this,” Livingston said.
I didn’t respond.
“You can’t possibly think I did it,” Livingston continued.
“The truth is that I don’t know for certain what happened. All I know is what you told me.”
“And you were right. I did tell you that I wanted to shoot my wife. That doesn’t mean I did it. We all say things in anger that we don’t actually follow through with.”
“Why are you calling me this late in the process? Your trial is almost over,” I said.
“Because the other investigator couldn’t find anything,” Livingston admitted.
“What other investigator?” I asked.
“No offense, but I wasn’t going to hire you after I learned what you’d told the police,” Livingston said.
“Who did you hire?” I asked.
Guy Livingston looked at his attorney, and Henry Mitchell gave me a name. I won’t repeat it here since I don’t have anything nice to say about the man.
“He’s known for following unfaithful spouses, not conducting a murder investigation,” I said.
“You follow unfaithful spouses. That’s how you learned that Guy’s wife was cheating on him,” Mitchell said.
“It’s a general rule of mine not to take those kinds of cases. Sometimes I come across adultery during an investigation,” I said.
“Will you take my case?” Livingston asked.
“What did your investigator learn? Who did he look at?” I asked.
“He looked more into Bret Hardy’s background, but he found nothing,” Mitchell said.
“Why would Bret Hardy have killed Mrs. Livingston? They were going to run off together. Plus, he’d just received a lot of money when he pawned her necklace and bracelet. He probably thought he could squeeze her for even more money in the future,” I said.
“I’m telling you, I didn’t murder my wife,” Livingston said.
“She was shot with your gun, a weapon that had your fingerprints all over it,” I said.
“Of course it had my fingerprints. I owned it, but I only ever used it at the gun range,” Livingston said.
“And there was no gunshot residue on his clothing when he was tested,” Mitchell said.
I didn’t respond.
“You didn’t know that, did you?” Livingston asked.
“No, I didn’t. But I also didn’t dive into the details of your case. I told the police what I knew about our last one-on-one interaction. That was it,” I said.
“After I left your bar, I started to drive home. But I pulled over before I got there. I was so angry,” Livingston said.
“You were worried you might hurt her,” I said.
“Yes, I was. I know that’s a bad thing for me to admit, but it’s the truth. My wife not only cheated on me, but she lied about the robbery. She took an anniversary gift from me and she gave it to her lover to pay off his debts. Think about that for a minute,” Livingston said.
I didn’t have to think about it. It was a pretty horrible thing for her to have done, but it goes without saying that she didn’t deserve to die because of the act of betrayal.
“Walk