The handgun sat perched in a wooden frame.  The broad-based frame surrounded the handle and kept the gun in an upright position.  At the back of the frame was a small eyelet screwed into the wood.  A length of twine was tied around the gun's trigger and threaded through the eyelet.  There was about eight feet of twine in all.  Enough to allow someone to stand in front of it and pull the string, thus ending what they conceived to be a miserable existence.

Earl Mitchell was living just such an existence, or so it seemed to him.  His life had amounted to one at-bat and the count was three and two with the bases loaded.  He could either strike out or go for his one shot at a home run.  He was determined not to walk away from the plate with anything less than a home run.

Earl had driven out to the desert on several occasions, making sure his scheme would come off without a hitch.  He had constructed a makeshift railing of the approximate height and size of the railing on the cruise ship.  He'd positioned the gun in the frame on that railing and test-fired it again and again, noting the action and reaction of the gun in the frame.  He jotted down in his notebook the distance that the gun and frame had kicked back each time it had been fired.  During the actual act on board the ship, the recoil would send the gun and the rigging over the rail and into the ocean.  It was perfect for framing someone else for your murder.

This was his final run-through before the upcoming cruise this weekend. Everything had to be right.  He test-fired the .45 one last time and noted the position in which the rig had landed.  It was perfect.  Now all he had to do was get the gun and the rigging on board without being detected.  His home run was within reach and he was pointing to the center-field bleachers.

Six months earlier, just before Christmas, Earl had experienced unusual pains; pains that became increasingly more severe with the passing weeks.  His wife, Susan, knew nothing about Earl's pains.  He didn't want to alarm her or his son, Tommy.  He had all he could do to see that they were taken care of and had all that they needed.  His initial visit to the doctor was at a hospital eighty miles from home.  There was no need for anyone to become concerned or to even know about his condition.

The diagnosis revealed bone cancer in an advanced state.  The end would be painful and would likely drain all his assets, leaving Susan and Tommy penniless.  He could accept his own death, but the impending fate of his wife and son was more than he could handle.  He had to do something about it.  He was insured; over-insured, some said.  He was worth much more dead than alive, but his insurance company would pay nothing in the event of a suicide.  It had to look like murder so that his family would be taken care of after he was gone.  There was no other way.

Earl's business, Mitchell and Chambers, Inc., had done well in the past.  He and his partner, Louie Chambers, had started an investment firm some twelve years earlier.  They had grown over the years and had etched out a decent living for themselves.  Each had named the other as beneficiary in the event either died.  It was only during the past year or so that Earl began noticing the decline in his business's income. They had more clients than ever before but the amount of revenue had dropped a little each year until he decided to investigate.  Louie was embezzling.

It was bad enough that his friend and partner was stealing from him, but he was also taking the money that his family needed.  That he would not tolerate.  Earl was prepared to confront Louie with the charges when he got the diagnosis from the doctor.  Now there was no point in such a confrontation.  Instead, Earl had found a way to kill two birds, so to speak, with the same stone, or in this case, the same bullet.

Each summer Earl and Louie took their wives on a cruise down the coast of Mexico.  It was a week of cruising, docking, shopping, swimming and lying around on the deck.  Each year as the ship returned to homeport, four people vowed to return the next year to recapture the fun they'd found on these cruises.  This year only three would be returning.  The other one had a date with destiny—a date that couldn't wait.

The day of the cruise had arrived and Earl was ready.  He'd spent six months preparing and his time had come.  The baggage was packed and waiting at the front door as Earl kissed Tommy good-bye.  Tears filled Earl's eyes and Tommy hugged his neck.

"Mommy and daddy will be back in a week," Susan said, kneeling next to her son.  "You be a good boy and listen to grandma."

Susan's mother grabbed Tommy's hand and smiled.  "We'll be just fine.  You two go on and enjoy your vacation."

Earl stood and turned his back on Susan.  He sneaked his handkerchief out and wiped his eyes before anyone had seen the tears.  He grabbed two of the suitcases and loaded them into the waiting cab.  The cabby loaded the rest as Susan and Earl took their places in the back seat.

Twenty-five minutes later the cab came to a stop on Pier Seven and the cabby unloaded the Mitchell's baggage.  Ten minutes later Earl and Susan were settling down in their cabin, awaiting the ship's departure.  Louie and his wife, Cecile, were already on board and settled into their own cabin.  The four met on the main deck as they had every year to wave to the people on the dock as the ship pulled away and headed out to sea.

Earl's plans called for him to stage an argument with Louie in front of witnesses.  The argument had to be convincing and had to be real.  If ever there was a time to confront Louie with the embezzlement, now was the time.  It would fit perfectly into his plans.

Earl waited until supper the first night.  It was a late supper, around eight-thirty.  He and Susan were seated at the table with Louie and Cecile.  There were three other couples seated around the huge round table.  The dining room had several such tables scattered across the floor.  The time was at hand and Earl swallowed hard before setting the wheels in motion.

"Louie," he said, breaking a bread stick and dipping it in his spaghetti sauce, "have you noticed that revenues are down again this year?  That's four years in a row now that we've taken a beating."  He munched on his bread stick.

"It's just a slump," Louie assured him.  "It'll pick up again."  Louie turned his attentions back to his dinner.

Earl set his fork down, pulled the napkin off his lap and laid it carefully on the table.  "I don't think you can call it a slump when it happens four years in a row."  His voice was getting louder now.  "In fact, I'd settle for a slump right about now."

"What are you getting at?" Louie asked.

"Forget it," Earl said.

Louie set his wine glass on the table and looked at Earl.  "Earl, I want to know what you're getting at.  You got something to say, say it."

"You know damn well what I'm getting at, you thief!"

"Thief?" Louie almost choked on his veal.  "You can't call me a thief."

"I just did," Earl said, even louder.  "And I can prove it.  When we get back to port I'll show you the evidence I'm talking about.  I'm sure the police will be interested in what I have as well."  Earl let the sentence hang in the air before storming out of the dining room, toward the deck.

Louie stood, ready to follow, but Cecile grabbed his arm and yanked him back into a sitting position.  "Sit down, Louis.  Let him go.  He has nothing.  He's just drunk."

Earl made a quick stop at his cabin and unpacked his suitcase.  On the bottom, beneath the colorful shirts, Earl found the .45 and the makeshift stand with the coil of twine.  The pitcher was winding up and it was time to hit his first and last home run.

Earl made it back to the deck in two minutes and set his contraption down next to a deck chair while he returned to the dining room.  Louie and Cecile were still at the table with Susan.

Earl pointed at Louie and crooked his finger.  "You and me.  Outside.  We've got something to talk about—in private."

Susan stood up.  Earl put an arm around her, kissed her and said, "I won't be long, dear.  I just want to talk to Louie."

Earl returned to the deck with Louie following close behind.  When they got to the deck chair, Earl retrieved the .45 and the wooden stand and set them up on the rail.  He pulled the two C clamps out of his pocket and clamped the contraption to the railing.  Then he held the string as he stepped in front of the gun.  Louie stood alongside him, staring in disbelief.

"So this is what it comes to, eh, partner? Louie said.  "Can't take the real world and want to check out.  Figures.  You always were a spineless wimp.  Sure, I took a little off the top.  You never missed it.  And you never would have either, but I guess I got a little greedy.  So what.  Go ahead, pull the string and do us both a favor."

Earl pulled a pair of surgical gloves out of this pocket and slipped them on.  He retrieved a handkerchief before picking the gun up out of the wooden holder and wiping it clean.

"Hey, pal," Louie said, "nobody cares if your prints are on your gun if you're checking out anyway.  Just like at work, another wasteful motion.  Well, what are you waiting for?"

Earl spun around, the .45 pointing at Louie.  He squeezed off one round at exactly railing height.  It hit Louie square in the chest and sent him reeling backwards.  Earl grabbed Louie by the ankle and pulled the body closer to the railing.  When the position looked about right, he let Louie's leg drop.  Then he uncoiled the twine and wrapped one end around Louie's finger.

Poor Louie.  So despondent about having been found out.  I guess he didn't want to stand trial or go to jail.  I never figured him for suicide.

It wasn't exactly a home run, but Earl figured he'd settle for a triple.  A triple and the money he planned to collect when the authorities determined that Louie had committed suicide and left his half of the company to Earl.

Earl figured his own suicide plan could wait another week or two now that Louie's share of the company belonged to him.  When he did check out, using the original plan, he'd be able to leave Susan and Tommy a lot more than before.

Life wasn't fair.  Earl knew this.  But somehow this seemed to even things out a little.