David Bishop - The Original Alibi

“Well, you didn’t come to watch an old man wallowing in family pictures. Do you have a report for me?”

“General. I lost a good part of today learning a big piece of this story that you didn’t bother to tell me. The witnesses against Eddie were paid, so it figures his alibi was also bought. For the alibi, I figure you were the buyer. Wasting my time hurts both of us.”

“Sit down. I see you didn’t wear a tie today. I like the look.”

“Folksy doesn’t fit you, General. Why didn’t you tell me that you paid someone to get Eddie released?”

“Well, Mr. Kile. You are a resourceful man. The police never learned what you have in the first day.”

“Whom did you pay? How much? Why?”

“The why is easy. Eddie’s innocent.”

“That dog don’t hunt, General. To some degree you’re questioning his innocence or I wouldn’t be here. So, why am I here?”

“Like I told you. I’m coming to the end of my time. I need to know, absolutely know. I always have believed him innocent and nothing has happened to change that belief. But I don’t want to meet my maker while I’m still pushing away any doubt at all.”

“Okay, that’s why, but what about whom?” I repeated, “And how much?”

“The who, I don’t know. How much, two million.”

“Before or after Eddie was released?”

“After. I refused to pay until she-”

“She?”

“It was a woman who called me to make the offer and arrange the payoff drop. On some level, the voice seemed familiar. I keep rerunning that voice in my mind, but I’ve never been able to place it. It stays just beyond reach.”

“Okay. You were saying?”

“I refused to pay until she proved she could get Eddie released and the charges dropped. She agreed, telling me that Eddie would not live a week if I didn’t pay.”

“Where and how did you pay?”

“She instructed me to contact my bank immediately after Eddie’s release to assure they had time to configure the money the way she demanded. I was to pick it up near closing time on the Friday after Eddie had been released with the charges dropped. I was to speak only with my personal banker and not disclose why I wanted the money. The fact that Eddie had been released had been in all the papers so the bank apparently didn’t connect my wanting the money with his predicament. The cash had to be in unmarked bills. She insisted that half of it be in hundreds, the rest in twenties, and nothing smaller, no fifties. I was told that if the bills were marked, Eddie would die. I was instructed to go and get the money alone. Apparently, she didn’t want any younger men with me. I still drove then. Not often, but it wasn’t a problem.”

“And how did you pay it over?”

“I was to bring the cash home. She would call me at her choosing. I was told not to grow concerned if I didn’t hear from her for several days, even a week or more, that she would have me under surveillance.”

“And did you get the call after you got home?”

“No, before I got home, while I drove the road back here after leaving the bank. From the highway it’s about a mile.”

“Was it dark by then?”

“Yes. Not fully. But I had turned on the headlights. The call came on my cell phone. The voice said enough for me to know the caller was the woman with whom I made the deal. She ordered me to stop at a certain point in the road and toss the valise over the side. The cliff there drops about thirty yards to the sand. Then she ordered I pull forward another hundred yards and run the car off the road into a ditch and turn off the headlights. About a half mile from the house there’s a patch of ice plant on the ocean side of the road. The ditch is on the inland side across from there. I couldn’t coax the car out of the ditch so I walked the rest of the way to the house. I hadn’t had my cell phone long and I didn’t think to just call Cliff. When I got back, Charles sent the chauffeur to deal with the car. He had to call a tow truck to pull it out.”

“Since then?”

“Nothing. Eddie was free. The bitch had the two million. Nothing whatsoever since.”

“The police department records show that you insisted that paternity tests be run to establish that Ileana’s unborn son was your great grandson. Why did you feel that was necessary?”

“Eddie was, is, I think this generation uses the term, a player. Ileana seemed a sweet girl, yet they met in one of those clubs that Eddie frequents. She could have been a player as well. I like to be certain. I learned long ago to reconnoiter.”

“And the results of those tests?”

“As you know, they confirmed Eddie was the father. The child would have been my great grandson.”

“And why didn’t you tell me about the payment for the alibi?”

“You’re a detective. You came highly recommended, but I wanted to see for myself if you were any good.”

“And?”

“Apparently you are.”

“Are we solid now, General? No need for any more games?”

“We’re solid, Matt. I’m impressed. Get to the bottom of it. Find out for me.” After a moment, he added, “Please.” The way he said it, well, it wasn’t a comfortable word for him.

“Now that you’ve observed my bona fides, let’s talk about my fee.”

“We should’ve discussed that the first night.”

“No, we shouldn’t. You wanted first what you have now.”

“Your bona fides?”

“Yep.”

“State your fee?”

“Two hundred thousand plus expenses.”

“Seems hefty.”

“I worked my last case pro bono, it averages out. You paid two million to get Eddie free. Seems a dime on the dollar is a reasonable fee to find out whether or not you should have forked over the big money.”

“And if he’s guilty?”

“That matters to you. Not to me. My fee is for finding out what you said you wanted to know.”

“You want it in writing?”

“Give Charles a signed memo and copy me. The fee is due when Eddie or someone else is arrested for the crime of the murder of Ileana Corrigan. Not convicted. Arrested. The rest is outside my jurisdiction. My fee is payable on an arrest and indictment by a grand jury.”

“Agreed. Charles will have a copy for you the next time you come by.”

*

As I left the general’s house, Karen Whittaker met me outside the front door. She had been swimming. If I could’ve licked her, I’d know if she had swum in their pool or in the ocean. Then she took the fun out of it.

“I just got back from a swim in the ocean. The water was cold.” Her brown hair reflected the setting sun to create a nimbus around her head. She shivered and jiggled. “I’ll go back if you’ll join me.” She stood staring at me, her back to the westerly sun. Her eyes were as soft and inviting as a warm pool with steam rising in the cool air, beseeching me to immerse myself and swim into her soul. At least that’s how I would have written it in one of my novels.

“Sorry,” I said, reluctantly. “No time. I’m on the job. But how about having dinner with me tomorrow night? I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you.”

“I’m here. You’re here. Ask.”

“Some of my questions need a chance to grow up a little more. Dinner? Tomorrow night.”

“No.”

She had been playing up to me so I guess my surprise showed when I stammered, “Why not?”

“Because you’re just a writer.”

“But I have a really big Bic.”

She laughed heartily before running her tongue across the front of her teeth. “On that promise, I’ll pick you up in front of your building at seven.” She turned, went inside and shut the door.

I stood for a moment staring at the airspace her black bikini bottom had just slapped out of her way.