Poe's First Law: A Murder on Maui Mystery
day he was killed?”“He’s a strong possibility. That’s who I would look at if I were you,” Samson said.
“Any advice for when I go to talk to him?”
“You can’t go at him directly. You’ll get nowhere. You may even get yourself killed. I’m sure you know he won’t volunteer any information. You’ll need to come up with a good reason for him to communicate with you.”
“One more thing. If I wanted to pay a visit to Oleen Akamu, where would I find her?” I asked.
“She has an apartment in Kihei,” he said, and he gave me the address.
“How did you find that out?”
“Mrs. Akamu sensed Oleen was about to do something. She just didn’t know what. She had me follow Oleen. I saw her in the leasing office. She got the keys to the apartment a month ago.”
“Why didn’t Mrs. Akamu step in and try to keep her from leaving Tavii?” I asked.
“Two reasons. She didn’t blame Oleen.”
“And the second?”
“She hoped that Oleen’s departure would scare Tavii into making changes. She obviously didn’t see this murder charge coming.”
“Thank you, Samson. You’ve been of tremendous help.”
“There’s one more thing. I need you to do something for me.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“If and when you find out who committed this murder and framed Mrs. Akamu, I need you to tell me first.”
I didn’t respond.
“Mrs. Akamu’s father gave my family a second chance. We were homeless when he hired me to look out for his daughter,” Samson continued.
“How did that happen?”
“I found a young girl being beaten by three boys. I saved her.”
“That girl was Mele Akamu.”
Samson nodded.
“The boys were sent by one of her father’s rivals. It was meant to send him a message.”
“What did you do to the boys?” I asked.
“After I helped her get home, Mr. Akamu paid me to find the boys and to put them in the hospital.”
“He sent a message of his own.”
“I’ve never left her side since. The Akamu family took care of mine and we were never homeless again. I owe her everything. Someone is trying to destroy her. I can’t allow that to happen.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I do, but I need to make something clear. I’ll get you both out of here if I can, but I can’t help you beyond that. I’m not going to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. If the police ask me about it, then I’ll tell them the truth of what I know.”
“I think we understand each other well.”
I stood.
“Thank you again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rutherford.”
I said goodbye to Samson and left the jail. I phoned Foxx on the way to the car.
“Hey, buddy. How did the conversation with the butler go?” he asked.
“I’ll fill you in when I see you in Kihei.”
“Oh, yeah? Why are we meeting there?”
“Samson told me where Oleen Akamu lives. Apparently, Mele Akamu had him follow her a while back.”
“Glad you found her address because I struck out with my contacts.”
“Let’s meet in a couple of hours. I have another stop I need to make first,” I said.
“Where’s that?”
“I want to have a quick chat with Bret Hardy.”
“The lover in the Guy Livingston case? What makes you think he’ll want to talk to you?”
“That’s the whole challenge. Most of these guys don’t want to talk. I have to come up with a good reason to convince them to change their mind.”
“And what reason are you going to use with Bret Hardy?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
18
The Blame Game
I already knew where Bret Hardy lived since I’d followed him for a few days during the original Guy Livingston case. His home wasn’t that far from Guy’s, which explained one of the reasons they’d become friends. They’d met at a nearby golf course where each of them played. Those games turned into invitations to dinner, which eventually evolved months later to Bret’s affair with Lucy Livingston.
I’d also discovered during my investigation that Bret had a bit of a gambling problem. That was one of the sources of his financial difficulties. As I’m sure you know, Maui is an expensive place to live. It’s easy to fall behind on your bills and that often leads to people seeking alternative ways to catch up. There are only so many hours a day one can work, though, and most island jobs don’t pay enough to dig yourself out of a deep hole. Hence, Bret’s turn to gambling.
He was a decent golfer, at least that’s what some of the other players at the club told me. He’d wagered with some of the players, betting big money on each hole. Although Bret was talented, he apparently wasn’t as good as the guys he’d bet against. I’m sure you can guess what happened next. His money problems got worse, and he turned to Lucy Livingston for help. Lucy allowed him to steal her jewelry, with the word “steal” in obvious quotation marks.
Don’t ask me why Lucy would stray from her marriage to be with a man who had such noticeable problems. Forgive me if it sounds like I’m judging the deceased, but it’s important to ask as many questions as possible if one is to discover the whole truth. That sometimes involves making indelicate statements about the victims.
Lucy’s affair with Bret and her false report to the police were stains on her character. That could have certainly been a sign that she wasn’t the angel the prosecutor made her out to be. I don’t mean to imply that she deserved to be murdered. Far from it. But there was the possibility that she’d been in more trouble than I knew, and the source of that trouble might have been the true perpetrator of the crime.
Foxx had asked a good question when he’d inquired how I intended to get Bret Hardy to talk. I’d seen him in the courtroom on the day that I’d testified against Guy Livingston. He’d even glared at me in the hallway afterward. What would his reaction be when I knocked on his door? I