Burr stopped jigging. “You’re not on the phone.”
“And neither are you.”
“I called you and you answered.”
“I heard you from my desk.”
“So, it didn’t really work.”
“No, Alexander Graham Bell, it didn’t.”
Burr looked at the receiver, then put it back to his ear. He heard the phone still ringing. “That explains that.” Burr slammed the receiver down.
Eve sat down across from him. “Now what?”
“Please ask Jacob to come in.”
“Why don’t you call him on your car phone?”
Jacob, whose hearing was almost as good as Eve’s, came in with a yellow legal pad. “Did I hear my name?”
“Jacob, old friend, we need a little research.”
Jacob ran a finger along the knife-like crease in his linen slacks. “I am not going on another of your wild goose chases masquerading as legal research. The research I do is in a law library.”
“It’s about our suspects.”
“Do we have any suspects?” Eve said.
Burr ignored her. “Jacob, this is very simple. I want you to see if anyone on Sleeper’s list or anyone else associated with this case has a criminal record.”
“Somehow I knew I would be roped into another frivolous research project,” Jacob said, groaning. “This is grasping at straws.”
Burr turned around. “Grasping at straws is all we have right now.
* * *
Burr woke at first light, Zeke licking his cheek. “All right, old friend.” He got out of his bunk, dressed and took Zeke ashore. His first night on Spindrift since Maggie had broken up with him had been uneventful, disappointingly so. “I miss her, Zeke. I surely do.” The aging lab wagged his tail. “Maybe we could get engaged.” They started off to the Jeep. “No, that won’t work.” Burr opened the door for Zeke. “How about dating with a view toward marriage. That’s it.” He let Zeke in the passenger door. “She’d never agree to that.”
They drove to the Little Finger. Burr had the breakfast special of eggs, toast and bacon. He thought so highly of it, he took a takeout order to Zeke.
Five minutes later he parked behind the sheds at Craker’s. “I’ve already proved I don’t do marriage very well,” he said to his now napping dog.
Burr ducked under the yellow tape and climbed the ladder ever so quietly. Once on board, he turned on his flashlight and made his way to the nav station. He slipped the logbook in between two of the charts.
“As long as I’m here, I might as well have a look. I’ll just make it quick.” He looked where he’d looked before, the nav station, the lockers, under the bunks, in the galley, in the head. He searched the engine compartment. The silver-colored valve covers gleamed in the beam of his flashlight. “I could eat off those.” He got back on the ladder and looked at Achilles one last time. “There’s something else here. I just don’t know what it is.”
* * *
A week later, Burr stood in front of Judge Fisher, Brooks at the prosecutor’s table. “Your Honor, I’m here to request a mistrial.”
Judge Fisher‘s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your Honor, you gave the prosecutor one week to complete his investigation of the so-called crime scene after which he was supposed to grant me access to Achilles.” Burr paused. “Which he has not done.”
Brooks jumped to his feet. “Mr. Lafayette failed to return the logbook within the forty-eight hours you gave him.”
“The logbook is not in my possession.”
“That’s because you snuck on the boat and put it back.”
Burr looked back at Brooks. “You found the logbook? Where was it?” Burr winked at him.
“In the chart table. Right where you put it.”
Burr ignored Brooks and turned back to the judge. “Your Honor, this proves my point. The prosecutor ignored your seven-day order. And the defense has not been able to inspect the evidence.” Burr started in on his tie.
“Stop that,” Judge Fisher said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your theatrical preening.”
Burr cleared his throat. “Your Honor, it is impossible for Mr. Lockwood to get a fair trial because the evidence has been corrupted and because of Mr. Brooks’ unethical and felonious conduct.”
“Are you kidding?” Brooks said. “That is the most outrageous thing I’ve ever heard. Lafayette has thumbed his nose at everything this court has ordered and every evidentiary law known to man. He’s flagrantly violated every ethical canon I can think of, not to mention his smart-ass attitude.”
“Watch your language, Mr. Brooks.” She turned to Burr. “Counsel, you are nothing if not bold, but boldness does not carry the day. It’s still not clear if the deceased’s boat is a crime scene. You said so yourself.”
Burr shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back to both.
“Further, I can’t see how you’ve been prejudiced. Mr. Brooks is to allow you immediate access to the defendant’s boat. And the logbook.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Burr said.
“Mr. Lafayette, your motion for a mistrial is denied. We are adjourned.” She slammed down her gavel before Burr could object. She stood and walked out.
Maybe I should have married her.
Burr walked back to his table. Brooks walked up to him and offered his hand to Burr, who shook it, reluctantly. “Nice try,” Brooks said.
Burr turned his back to Brooks and picked up his papers.
“Let me know when you want on board. And when you want to see the logbook.”
“I’ve seen it,” Burr said, his back to Brooks.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Burr and Zeke drove back up the Leelanau Peninsula through Cedar and up the north side of Glen Lake to M-22. The clouds had drifted off to the east. By the time he knocked on the door at Morningside, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but the late summer sun wasn’t nearly as brilliant as it had been in June. Consuela answered the door and led him out into the backyard to Tommy, sitting in the shade of a sugar maple with what looked very much like a martini. He had on a white polo shirt, khaki shorts and sandals.
He looks more like a cottager on Glen Lake than a cherry farmer accused of murder. But his face is lined, maybe from the sun, probably from the murder charge.
Tommy stood and shook Burr’s hand. “Will you join me?”
Burr nodded.
If I see one more maple tree, I’m going to buy a chain saw.
Tommy pulled up a chair for Burr. “Please sit down. I’ll be right back.”
Burr sat. Zeke sniffed the tree trunk lifted his leg on it, then lay at Burr’s feet. Burr looked past the yard to the cherry trees standing in rows like soldiers. They looked different somehow. They were all green. Of course. The red of the cherries was gone, and the branches weren’t drooping with the weight of the fruit. Burr thought they looked naked.
Tommy appeared and handed Burr a rocks glass.
“Thank you, Tommy.”
Tommy sat. Burr sipped his drink. Thank God it’s a martini. “This is superb.”
“I remembered you like a very dry, very dirty Bombay.”
“This is perfect.” Burr took more than a sip. “Tommy…”
“Helen and I sat here late in the day. Just like now. She loved it here, looking out at her orchards. All that was hers.”
“So why do you want to sell?”
“I told you. It’s not the same without Helen.”
Burr took another swallow of his drink.
“It makes me look guilty, doesn’t it?”
Burr fished an olive out and chewed it slowly. “It doesn’t help, but if you don’t want to farm anymore, who could blame you.”
“It would be different if we
had kids, but we never got around to it. I’m not really sure why.”
“Lauren doesn’t want to sell,” Burr said.
She also doesn’t want to grow cherries, and her kids aren’t old enough. Karen’s kids don’t want to grow cherries. That’s why she wants to sell.”
Burr licked the gin off his finger. This martini is heaven.
He reached into his pocket, took out the once crumpled, now folded suspect list. He handed it to Tommy. “Please look at this again and see if there’s anyone who could have possibly killed Helen.”
Tommy looked over the names. He shook his head ‘no’ and handed it back to Burr.
At least he didn’t crumple it up.
Burr studied his drink. He looked longingly at the olives, then, “Tommy, as of right now, we don’t have much of a defense. Brooks has witnesses who are going to testify they saw you board the ferry. Your gun killed Helen, and Sleeper is going to testify that, after Helen’s body was found, you talked to him about selling the farm.”
Burr looked at the list for the umpteenth time. He folded it, put it back in his pocket and took a big swallow of his martini. “We could use a few suspects.”
“What are you going to do?”
“As of right now, I think our best defense is reasonable doubt,” Burr said, who had his own reasonable doubts.
* * *
Jacob paced back and forth in front of Burr’s desk. “I won’t do it.”
Burr sat behind his desk. He looked at the formerly crumpled list. “Jacob, old friend, you must.”
“It will take forever.”
“Not quite forever.”
Burr looked at Jacob. “We don’t have any suspects. I need to know who in Leelanau County has been accused or convicted of a violent crime and isn’t in prison.” Burr drummed his fingers. “In the last five years.”
“That will take forever.”
“Jacob, we really do need more than a list of accused and convicted felons, but right now this is all we have.”
Jacob twirled a curl in his steel wool hair.
“There’s something else going on here. Something that we don’t know. I’m not sure if Tommy knows, but I’m also not sure he’s telling us everything.”
“I don’t see how this helps,” Jacob said.
“As I’ve said, ad nauseum, the police lie. Witnesses lie. Most of all, clients lie.”
Eve came in with a letter and handed it to Burr.
Burr read it, then frowned.
“What is it?” Jacob said.
“It’s the scheduling order from Judge Fisher,” Eve said. “She wants to meet with Burr and Brooks in her chambers.”
* * *
Burr sat in Judge Fisher’s chambers next to Peter Brooks and across from the judge herself.
I’ve gone from sitting in my own office with two people who were annoyed with me to another office where two more people are annoyed with me.
He smiled at the judge, then, “Your Honor, I do understand that you want to start the trial on September 15th, but I simply haven’t had enough time to prepare.”
The always attractive Judge Fisher smiled back at Burr, but he thought her smile was a tad on the icy side. “Mr. Lafayette, you’ve had all summer.”
“Yes, Your Honor, but it’s difficult to get to South Manitou. The witnesses are hard to track down, and the prosecutor has been unwilling to give me access to all of the evidence…”
Brooks interrupted. “Your Honor, Mr. Lafayette declined to go on board the boat.”
“Your Honor…”
Judge Fisher interrupted him. “After all this, you haven’t even been on the boat?”
Burr smiled at the judge again.
“Don’t be cute with me,” she said.
“I would never do that, Your Honor,” Burr said, who, of course, would. “I just need a little more time.”
Judge Fisher glared at him. “How much?”
Burr thought she was even prettier when she was mad at him, but he knew enough to not say so. “Your Honor, I’d like to start the trial December 1st.”
“I object, Your Honor. That is far too long.”
Burr turned away, as if he was thinking about a reply, which he wasn’t.
If I can get to November 1st, I’ll be just fine. By that time the ferries will have stopped running and the charter boats will be out of the water.
“Your Honor,” Brooks said. “Mr. Lafayette is toying with the court.”
Burr turned back to the judge. “Your Honor, I don’t see how I can be ready before December 1st.”
The judge drummed her fingers on her desk. “Mr. Lafayette, I will extend the trial date.”
Burr smiled again.
“The trial is postponed to October 1st.”
Burr cringed.
Brooks stood. He whispered in Burr’s ear. “The ferry runs until Halloween and the steelhead fishing is good through October.”
* * *
Burr sat in his office. This time there was only one annoyed person, Jacob, sitting in front of him. Eve was in her garden, something about deadheading and roses. He didn’t know what any of that meant, and he didn’t care. He was just glad she wasn’t here. He had his hands full with Jacob.
His partner creased his slacks again. One leg, then the other. And back again. “You bounce back and forth between here and that judge’s courtroom like a ping-pong ball. I think she has her eye on you, by the way.” Jacob re-creased.
“Would you please stop that,” Burr said. “Yes, there is a lot of back and forth, but I find a personal touch is much more effective.”
Jacob looked up from his slacks. “It’s so effective that your grand plan of skipping the preliminary exam and having the trial after all the witnesses left has backfired.”
“Touché, my dear friend. So, this is what we must do.”
“We?”
“The royal we. As in you.”
“Whatever it is, I won’t do it.”
“Money problems always play into these things. So, Jacob, take all the suspects and see who might have money problems.”
* * *
Today, a week before the trial, Burr sat at his desk, Zeke napping on the couch again. He’d spent the past three weeks getting ready for the trial. He’d pored over Brooks’ witness list. There were no surprises. Brooks’ list laid out his case just the way Burr thought it would. The witnesses would tell the story Brooks wanted told, and they’d all still be in Leelanau County. Burr’s strategy had failed. More than failed, it had backfired. He hadn’t had the benefit of hearing what they were going to say because he’d waived the preliminary exam and there wasn’t time to notice them for depositions, even if Judge Fisher would have allowed it, pre-trial discovery not being favored in criminal cases.
So far, Jacob hadn’t turned up much of anything. He had a few suspects but no one he could pin Helen’s murder on. He did have a few suspects who could have, might have actually murdered Helen. The ones with criminal records, and the ones who had money troubles that a check from Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore would fix.
It wasn’t much but it was all he had, and it just might be enough. No one had seen Tommy with Helen on South Manitou or on Achilles, and certainly no one had seen Tommy kill his wife.
Still, it would have been much better if someone, anyone, could vouch for Tommy when Helen was killed. Burr didn’t believe Tommy had been fly fishing by himself on the Betsie and hadn’t seen a soul who would say so. He didn’t think Helen’s sisters believed Tommy either. Someone or someones weren’t telling him everything.
His defense was going to be reasonable doubt, but he was damned if he was going to give up on his plan to delay the trial, so he’d tried again, unbeknownst to both Jacob and Eve.
And here was the denouement right in front of him. He t
urned the envelope over and over, the envelope from Judge Fisher and the circuit court for the counties of Grand Traverse, Antrim and, most importantly, Leelanau.
“Zeke, old friend, this will fix Brooks.” Burr ripped open the envelope. He read it. Once, twice, three times. “Damn it all. The worst has happened.” Burr crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it across the room. Zeke, ever vigilant, opened one eye. He hopped off the couch and retrieved the balled-up letter. He dropped it in Burr’s hand. “Thank you, Zeke,” Burr said.
Eve, who Burr was sure could hear what went on even from a bomb shelter, walked in, Jacob in tow. They both sat down.
“Yes?” Burr said.
“You sent for us,” Eve said.
“I did no such thing.”
“When you say, ‘Damn it all. The worst has happened,’ it means we’re supposed to come in.” Eve tugged at her earring.
“Not this time,” Burr said. He reached for the letter-crumpled-into-a-ball but Eve snatched it. She uncrumpled it and read it. Then she looked up at Burr.
“Now you’ve done it.”
“Done what?” Jacob said.
Burr leaned over his desk and reached for the letter, but Eve pulled it away.
“Done what?” Jacob said again.
“It’s nothing. Just a little procedural hoo-hah that didn’t quite go as planned,” Burr said.
“I should say so,” Eve said. “Burr, what are you going to do? Or should I say, Jacob, what are you going to do?”
“Me?” Jacob twirled a curl in his hair.
“Genius, Burr. Absolute genius,” Eve said.
“Thank you, Eve.” Burr ran his hands through his hair, front to back.
“Brooks does that, too,” Jacob said.
Burr put his hands on his desk. “I don’t care what Brooks does.”
“It’s hard to fool a Michigan lawyer,” Eve said.
“What is going on and why does it affect me?”
“It’s a minor thing,” Burr said.
Eve cleared her throat. “It seems that Burr has a highly infectious and highly contagious disease that will require postponing the trial for at least thirty days.”
“That will get us the delay you want. It’s genius,” Jacob said. “I didn’t know you were ill.”
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