Dots

May 23, 1978 Mary Robbins asked herself again what she was doing there. She was 24 years old. At 5’6” and 124 pounds, she was an attractive brown-haired woman who very nicely filled out the bikini she was wearing. She was nearing the close of her third year of teaching English at Burlington High School. Today was a day off for her. This was exam week and she had no exams scheduled to give until tomorrow. Mary was with an 18-year-old senior whom she had been tutoring for the past two school years. They were out on Lake Champlain in his family’s boat, anchored in a secluded cove off from the southwestern tip of the island. It is located just around the corner and out of view from Burlington Harbor, and Shelburne Point. The closest clear line of sight into the cove was from the New York shoreline more than seven miles to the west. This early in the boating season there was virtually no traffic on the lake on a Thursday afternoon. Mary had been very careful to cover her tracks. She had walked from her home in the small housing development adjacent to Shelburne Shipyard near the tip of Shelburne Point. She had not drawn undue attention, because she took this same walk almost every day that she was at home. The path to the end of the point ran for a ways parallel to the marina at Shelburne Shipyard. When she reached the point on the path where it was closest to the back of the marina, she had paused and looked around carefully. She waited until no one was in sight before cutting off the path. Mary slipped into the marina yard and worked her way among the many boats still in their cradles. She went down to the dock where a 25-foot yellow and white Donzi speedboat was tied up. She quickly climbed aboard and hid in the small unlocked cuddy cabin. Her student came aboard a few minutes later. He told the dock boy who had been standing over at the gas dock that he was going to perform the start of season “sea trials” with the boat. No one else knew Mary was on board. No one else knew about their affair. Last February he had become her lover. Mary had been tutoring him since the start of his junior year. In February, he had given her a Valentine card and an expensive watch as a gift. She had given him a thank you kiss that instantly became more. She had been starved for attention. He was a horny eighteen-year-old senior and the results were predictable. They left the shipyard marina and rounded Shelburne Point before Mary came out of the cuddy cabin and took off her shorts and tee shirt. After a quick boat ride down past the Shelburne Farms Brick House a few miles south of the point, they turned around and made their way back up to the cove to spend the afternoon together. They opened a couple of beers and started to talk. This was the first time that they had been together outside of the scheduled times that Mary had been tutoring him at his parent’s home. They were both a little nervous about the possibility of being discovered. After a half hour and a few more beers they became more relaxed and started to kiss. It did not take too long for their swimsuits to come off. After they had made love, still naked and slightly buzzed from the beer she had consumed, Mary dove into the frigid 60-degree water from the stern of the boat. The unseen large rock was 3 ½ feet below the surface of the lake. When her head slammed into it, her skull had broken, sending a large, sharp shard deep into her brain. She had died instantly. The red of her blood mixing with the lake water floated to the surface before her body did. Her young lover seeing the bloody water screamed to her “are you alright?” When she didn’t respond he jumped in and franticly pulled her lifeless body back into the stern of the boat and attempted to revive her. After several minutes, he accepted the futility of his efforts. He stopped and stared at her body searching his mind trying to decide what he should do next. Not wanting to embarrass his family by having the affair discovered and not knowing what else to do, he pulled Mary’s bikini, shorts, tee shirt, and shoes back onto her body in the back of the boat. Then, he took two oversized beach towels out of the cuddy cabin and wrapped those around her. Finally, he pulled up the anchor and drove out of the cove into the broad lake. Cutting the motor after reaching a spot located directly west of the island, he took the anchor and rode and wrapped her shrouded body securely with them. He pulled her over the stern and then rolled her onto the swim platform. Finally, he used a small manual bilge pump to flush the bloody carpet with lake water where her body had lain. He then started the motor again and steered the boat to a spot south of the island where the depth finder showed 340 feet of water under the boat. He cut the motor again and rolled Mary’s body off the swim platform. He immediately restarted the boat and headed back to Shelburne Shipyard and his slip. Quickly securing the dock lines and fenders, he went to his car and drove home. The secret was safe. Since that day, he seldom went near the boat again, never without another family member along.