Blood like the Setting Sun: A Murder on Maui Mystery

by Robert W. Stephens

  “What do you want to know?” she asked.

  “How long have you known Joe Chambers?”

  “About a year. He came to me a few times. Eventually he asked me out. I never date my clients, but there was something about him.”

  Was it the potential for the big pay day? I asked myself.

  “You and Joe are dating then?”

  “Yeah, maybe a few months.”

  “Does Joe ever talk about his brother and sister?”

  “Sometimes. He says they hate him.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “He doesn’t know. He said they’ve hated him since the moment he was born.”

  “Joe produced a new will that leaves him all of his mother’s assets. I believe I saw your signature on that will as a witness. Is that correct?”

  “Yeah, I signed it.”

  “So you were there when his mother signed it too?”

  “Yeah, she was there.”

  “And where did you do it? At Joe’s house?”

  “No, at the lawyer’s.”

  “What lawyer? Mara Winters?” I asked.

  “I don’t know her. A friend of mine did it. He’s a lawyer. He wrote the new will for Joe’s mom.”

  “Was his name the second witness signature?” I asked.

  Candi with an i didn’t answer me. I was half-tempted to ask if this attorney was a client of hers or if he was the lawyer she used when she inevitably found herself arrested for her given occupation.

  “What’s his name?” I asked.

  “Halverson. Dick Halverson.”

  “Where is Mr. Halverson’s office?”

  “In Kahului. Near the airport.”

  “So Mr. Halverson drew up the new will and you, Joe, and Charlotte Chambers were in his office to sign it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did Joe say why he used Mr. Halverson instead of the family’s regular attorney?”

  “He said his mom was worried she’d argue with her. She said she wanted to leave everything to Joe, and she didn’t want anybody fighting her about it, especially some lawyer.”

  “How did Mrs. Chambers seem that day?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Was she happy, stressed, sad…”

  “She seemed okay to me.”

  “Was that the first time you had met Joe’s mother?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “One last question - what was she wearing that day?”

  “I don’t remember. I don’t even remember what I was wearing.”

  “Thanks, Candi.”

  I handed her the money.

  “I’ll tell Joe you came by.”

  “Sure thing. Give him my best.”

  I stood, but Candi stayed on the sofa. I guess I’ll show myself out, I thought. I walked to the door and left without looking back. I wondered if she was going to tell Joe about my questions or if she was going to lead him to believe we engaged in her age-old profession. Either way, I assumed I was going to be getting a phone call from him in the near future.

  I thought about calling Alana and filling her in on the details, but I decided to take a quick trip to Halverson’s office first. I Googled his business and got the address in Kahului. The traffic was light, and I made good time. Halverson’s place was tucked in the back of a one-story office building. There was no sign above his door. I circled the building and checked out the other businesses. Most of them had generic-sounding names that gave no clue as to what they actually did or sold, and I really couldn’t get a good feel for the place. I parked on the opposite side of the building from Halverson’s office and walked around to his door. It was made of glass, so it was easy to see inside. There was no receptionist and no name of a law firm on the wall like Halverson, Halverson, and Halverson. There were no generic paintings with captions like Courage and Teamwork, no chairs in the lobby, and no plastic plants covered in dust.

  I decided to go inside anyway. A little bell jingled as I opened the door.

  “Can I help you?” I heard a male voice from one of the back rooms.

  “Yes, I’m looking for Dick Halverson.”

  A few seconds later, Dick Halverson appeared. He was in his forties, a bit overweight and balding. He wore a pair of black pants and a polo shirt. It wasn’t the kind of attire I was used to seeing attorneys wear, but then again, this was Hawaii.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “A friend of mine recently got arrested for drunk driving. He’s in need of an attorney.”

  “A friend? Are we talking about you?” Halverson smiled.

  “No, it’s a friend. I live with the guy. He’s pretty panicked, as I’m sure you can understand.”

  “How did you hear about me?”

  “A lady I go to sometimes recommended you,” I said.

  “Ah, got yah,” he said, and he pointed at me and laughed.

  I wasn’t sure if Halverson thought I was talking about Candi when I mentioned my reference, or if there were several other ladies of the same profession he represented. As a side note, I found it rather strange that he hadn’t invited me back to his office. We were essentially conducting business here in an empty room. This guy came across as more of a used car salesman than a lawyer. Of course, sometimes those two professions can attract the same kinds of personalities. Forgive me if you’re, in fact, an attorney and are reading this tale for enjoyment. I’m sure you’re of the upstanding kind and could never be confused for one peddling pre-owned vehicles.

  “Is your friend still in jail?” he asked.

  “No, they let him out on bail. This is his second arrest, though, and he’s concerned he’ll be heading off to jail for a year or two. He really needs an attorney to represent him.”

  “Where is he now? Why hasn’t he come to see me?”

  “The guy’s a basket case. I can’t even get him out of the house.”

  “I understand.”

  Halverson reached into his pocket and removed a business card.

  “When he’s ready to talk, have him give me a call.” He handed me the card.

  “There’s one more thing, and I’m not sure how to approach this subject with you. Neither my friend nor I have a lot of money. If we were to pay you in cash, under the table so to speak, is there any way we could get a break on your rate?”

  “That would be illegal, and I could get into a lot of trouble with the IRS.”

  “Okay, I understand. I hope I didn’t insult you.”

  Halverson didn’t reply, and I turned and walked toward the door.

  “Have him call me. I’m sure we can work something out,” he said.

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I walked back to the other side of the office building and climbed into my car. I started the engine and drove out of the office complex. It took me about forty-five minutes to get home. Maui the dog greeted me as usual. I grabbed his leash, and we headed out the door. I called Alana while the dog and I walked around the neighborhood.

  “Hey, I was just about to call you,” she said.

  “Yeah, you have some interesting news?” I asked.

  “Not really. How did your meeting with Candi go?”

  “You got my message?”

  “Sorry I haven’t called back sooner,” she said. “It’s been pretty hectic here.”

  “No problem.” I filled Alana in on my visit with Candi and Dick Halverson.

  “She thought you were there for sex?” Alana asked.

  “It was rather awkward,” I admitted.

  “She’s lucky I’m not the jealous type. I could have her place raided.”

  Don’t let Alana fool you; all women are the jealous type.

  “What was your impression of this lawyer?” Alana asked.

  “He’s an ambulance chaser, maybe even lower than that. I can’t possibly see Charlotte Chambers using him for anything.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t Charlotte’s idea. It sounds like Joe set the whole thing up, and all she had t
o do was show up and sign the thing.”

  “Possibly,” I said.

  “Joe Chambers dates a prostitute. I wonder what his mother thought of that,” Alana said.

  “I don’t think she had any idea. Candi said she only met Charlotte once, and that was at the lawyer’s office when they supposedly signed the new will.”

  “Supposedly? You think it’s a fake?” Alana asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I asked Candi what Charlotte was wearing to the meeting, and she didn’t remember. I’d have thought she’d have been nervous about meeting Joe’s mom for the first time. I think she’d remember every detail.”

  “Maybe not. People are notorious for having bad memories. Ten people can see the same thing and remember it ten different ways.”

  “How late you working? Want to do dinner tonight?” I asked.

  “Sure. Your place or mine?”

  “Why don’t you come over to Foxx’s,” I suggested.

  “Okay, I’ll give you a call when I’m leaving.”

  I hung up with Alana and immediately called Mara Winters. I was on hold for several minutes. I wondered if she was neck-deep in matters involving the Chambers family.

  “Hello, this is Mara Winters.”

  “Hey, Mara. This is Poe.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m interested in creating a will for myself, and I was wondering if you could give some basic guidelines about what makes one valid.”

  “You know I can’t talk specifics about my clients,” she said.

  “I get that, and I’m not going to ask for details, but I do have some general questions that would help me understand the situation better.”

  “What are they?” Mara asked.

  “What makes a will valid? I’m sure there are certain things you need.”

  “It varies from state to state, but in Hawaii you generally need two witness signatures. There are several exceptions, for example, a holographic will.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s when the person handwrites their entire will and signs it.”

  “And that would make a valid will?” I asked.

  I thought back to the torn document I saw at the funeral. It was definitely typed.

  “You could pay a high-priced attorney thousands of dollars to write a will, and it could be trumped by someone later writing a new will out with a ball point pen and a piece of paper. If everything was written out correctly, they could even write it on a napkin.”

  “What are some of the reasons someone might claim a will is invalid then?” I asked.

  “They could claim the signature was forged. They could say the testator was unduly influenced or not of sound mind.”

  “How would you prove that?” I asked.

  “A doctor’s testimony could do it. Let’s say the person was proven to have been suffering from some mental ailment, like Alzheimer’s, and there was medical proof of this diagnosis. That could invalidate the will.”

  “What if I decide to leave everything to my roommate, Foxx, and Alana says that wasn’t my intention? How would she go about getting my will declared invalid?” I asked.

  “When a will is admitted to probate, the interested parties are all given notice and a hearing is set. If Alana opposed the will, she would need to file notice to prevent the will from being admitted into probate. Once it’s admitted, though, the will is essentially proven to be valid. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard about family members threatening to contest a will, but if everything was done properly, they really don’t have a leg to stand on. Their attorneys tell them that, and they end up not contesting the will after all. It’s not worth paying an attorney a lot of money when they don’t stand a chance of getting what they want.”

  “Okay, if the will is valid and no one contests it, how long does it take for things like money and property to be transferred to the new owners?”

  “In Hawaii probate could last a minimum of six months. It could also last years or even decades if the interested parties oppose it.”

  “What happens if Foxx, Alana, and I had a business? Does the business have to stop functioning while the estate is in probate?” I asked.

  “Well, if it was a large business, it would be highly unlikely that you were the sole owner. Most likely the company would be structured as an LLC or a corporation. There would be an operating agreement for that entity that would clearly state how things are to be run in the event a general partner dies. For example, if the three of you owned the company, and you left your shares to a fourth person, that person would inherit your interest in the company, but it’s not like they can show up at the headquarters one day and expect to vote on how things are done. The operating agreement would prevent that from happening.”

  “So if Joe inherits his mother’s hotel, it’s not like he can immediately sell it and pocket the money,” I said.

  “I thought we established I couldn’t talk about my clients,” Mara said.

  “I had to try. By the way, have you heard of a lawyer named Dick Halverson?”

  “No, why do you ask?”

  “He’s supposedly the guy who rewrote Charlotte’s will.”

  “I’ll ask around. Maybe some of my colleagues know him.”

  “Give me a call if you learn anything important.”

  I ended the call. I found it unlikely Mill and Bethany could prove their mother was unduly influenced or wasn’t of sound mind. She seemed very coherent to me. Of course, there was always the chance she had a medical condition she didn’t disclose to me or Mara. It would have been none of our business.

  As far as I knew, that meant Mill and Bethany’s best hope of declaring the will invalid was if their mother’s signature was forged. I assumed they’d need to bring in a handwriting expert to do that. It wasn’t looking good for either of them.

  If I were a betting man, I’d put my money on Joe Chambers to inherit the crown and become a rich man once that hotel property was sold. How long he would manage to hold onto that money was an entirely different scenario. I still didn’t know why Charlotte would have left everything to Joe and excluded her two other children. And why in the world would she agree to use a different lawyer like Dick Halverson to draw up the new will?

  When Maui the dog and I got back to the house, Foxx was home.

  “Hey, buddy, how’s the investigation going?” he asked.

  I told him about my morning meeting with Candi, my strange conversation with her lawyer in an empty room, and the lesson in wills from Mara Winters.

  “This girl, Candi, actually thought you were there for sex?” Foxx asked.

  “Yeah, you should have seen how she was dressed.”

  “Tempted?”

  “Not in the least. I can honestly say I’ve never hired a prostitute before.”

  Foxx said nothing.

  “You have no follow-up?” I asked.

  “Oh, nope, I haven’t used one either. I was just thinking about this one girl I was with a few times in college. I’m pretty sure she was running some kind of escort business on the side, but she never charged me.”

  “Why’d you think she might have been an escort then?” I asked.

  “Just some things some other guys said. Doesn’t matter. So what are you gonna do now?”

  “Depends on what Alana wants to do.”

  “I think the answer is obvious. The other brother did it. The guy I walked in on doing coke in the bathroom,” Fox said.

  “Joe Chambers.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “What makes you think he did it?” I asked.

  “Drugs, man. They screw you up big time. The guy sounds like a desperate dude to me. Why would he go to a lawyer like that if something shady wasn’t going on? Think about it. His two witnesses for the will are a lawyer with no office furniture and a hooker.”

  I would have laughed if someone hadn’t been murdered. Foxx was right, though. Joe was guilty of something. Maybe it was just royal
ly screwing his life up. Maybe it was a fake will. Maybe it was murder.

  “What have you been up to lately? We really haven’t had much time to talk in the last week,” I said.

  “Nothing much. Just taking it easy.”

  “You been hanging out at Harry’s?”

  “No more than usual,” Foxx said.

  “You been dating anyone new?” I asked.

  “Why are you interested in my love life?”

  “Sorry, I’m not trying to be nosy. It’s just that I find hearing about your love life to be a huge stress reliever for me. It’s a bit of a break to hear the stories.”

  “My fault, man. I hope it didn’t sound like I was snapping at you. Nothing’s going on in that department. I sometimes feel like people judge me for not being more committed to someone.”

  “Some people might, not me.”

  “I appreciate it. I’ve just decided to take a bit of a break,” he said.

  I didn’t want to press anymore, especially after claiming I held no judgments on the matter, but I knew Foxx wasn’t being entirely honest with me. I’d known Foxx for a very long time, and not once in that time had I ever known him to take a break.

  “You want a beer?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  I walked into the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the refrigerator. I went back into the living room and handed Foxx his bottle.

  “Thanks.”

  He twisted the top off and took a big slug.

  “Let me ask you a question. How do you know when the time is right to propose to someone?” I asked.

  “You thinking about popping the question?”

  “The thought crossed my mind. I know we haven’t really been together that long, though.”

  “Has she dropped any hints?” Foxx asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Then why propose?”

  “I don’t know. It just seems like the right thing to do.”

  “I’m not saying it’s the right or the wrong thing. It just seems like you two have something pretty good going on. I don’t think marriage would ruin that, but why change the status of something if it’s going fine?”

  It was a good point, I thought. Perhaps that would be the same reasoning Alana would use if I did ask her to marry me. Why screw up a good thing?