David Bishop - The Original Alibi

It would have been a good morning to have Axel around. Many nights he had indulged me in our cell while I talked about Helen. Why she had never come to see me, whether some day she might. It would appear the governor’s pardon had no impact on the sentence she had given me. She would keep me emotionally incarcerated as long as she felt it appropriate. I doubted she knew any more than I how long that might be.

In the lobby I ran into Clara Birnbaum, an old maid retired elementary schoolteacher with dried crust on her personality. She lived three doors down from Axel’s small condo on the floor below mine. We were both there to pick up our mail. Axel had been doing some grocery shopping for her. When he picked up our mail, he got hers as well and dropped it off at her condo. This morning he left before the mail carrier arrived so Clara and I both made our own mail runs. Maybe Axel was becoming indispensable, certainly Clara would say so. In return, Clara had promised Axel she would bake us a pie every other week, whatever kind we wanted on condition Axel bought the fixings.

I explained why Axel didn’t get her mail. Clara replied, “Then why didn’t you pick it up for me, Mr. Matthew Kile?”

“Well, I don’t know, Clara. I just didn’t think about it I guess, Axel not being here and all. Besides, Axel offered to get the mail for you, I didn’t.”

“In return I baked an apple pie and promised to bake a pie every other week, apple, cherry or cream. Did you eat part of the apple pie and do you plan on eating some of the future pies, Matthew?”

“Well, yes, ma’am, I do.”

“Then if you’re sharing in the spoils, you need to do your part. From now on, you pick up my mail when you’ve sent Axel away so he can’t. Do we understand each other, Matthew?”

I felt like one of her students claiming my dog had eaten my homework. “Yes, ma’am, I guess I do. Your pies are very good. So, yes, we understand each other. How about banana cream this week?”

“Your choice, Matthew. I’ll have it ready the day after I get the fixings. When will Axel be going to the store for me, or will you be going this time?”

“Let me get with Axel and he’ll let you know. Would you like me to escort you back to your unit, Clara?”

“I’m not feeble, Matthew. I can get my own self upstairs and inside. Besides, then you’d want to come in and it’s time for my stories.”

“Of course, Clara, I meant no disrespect. Goodbye.”

*

“Buddha,” Axel said, “it looks like this Eddie Whittaker is doing a Bill Murray Groundhog Day. His routine’s the same as yesterday: breakfast out, go by his stockbrokers, and after lunch the handball club, yesterday the golf course. That’s no real difference. Then he puts on glad rags and has dinner with some fox. Last night a blonde, tonight a blackhead; I don’t like that word, it makes her sound like something you’d squeeze.”

“I’d like to squeeze her,” Buddha said.

Axel frowned while shifting his eyes toward his big driving teacher.

“Both nights when he takes them home he goes in for an hour or so,” Buddha said. “This prick knows how to live. Sure different than before we did our time, when we was younger.”

“He turned south toward the docks.”

“What the fuck’s this about?” Buddha asked.

“That’s what we’re here to find out. Stay with him.”

“No sweat.” Buddha kept his distance as he eased into the same turn. “He’ll lose his wallet before he loses me.”

After a while, Buddha turned into a chainlink fenced yard in front of one of the industrial buildings, swung around and came out through a different gate. The traffic was light enough that he could still see Eddie Whittaker’s Lexus about a quarter mile ahead. “I did that to give him a change in the pattern of headlights behind him.”

Five minutes later, Buddha pulled to the curb. “He’s going into the lot for that biker bar. What’s an uptown swell like him doing going in that kinda joint?”

“The boss says Eddie used to have a Harley and ride with the general’s chauffeur who has one. That they used to hang sometimes with the rough bike crowd. That’s how he met his fiancee, this Ileana Corrigan woman who got murdered over ten years ago. Eddie got arrested for it, then released a few days later.”

“How’d that happen?” Buddha asked. “The cops don’t go around arresting people for murder until they’re pretty sure they got ‘em by the short hairs.”

“They thought they had him cold. Then some citizens came out of the woodwork. Solid folks whose testimony trumped the couple of witnesses they had who claimed having seen Eddie murder his woman. Well, one claimed he saw the murder. The other placed him nearby.” Axel shrugged. “So, Eddie walked.”

“And the case now?”

“An unsolved cold case.”

“So, is Mr. Kile trying to nail him for it again?”

“Not particularly. The boss wants to find who did the broad in. Doesn’t care whether it’s Eddie or someone else.” Buddha opened his driver’s door. “Where do you think you’re going?” Axel asked.

“Check the place out. Make sure Eddie Whittaker didn’t go out the back door. Maybe get me a beer.”

“No drinking and driving. You stay put. You’re not exactly someone who looks like a lot of other folks. If Whittaker sees you, he’ll remember. That’ll put the kibosh on our following him on foot should the need arise.”

*

I was turning onto the ramp for the underground parking below my condo building when my cell rang. I pulled to a stop before entering and backed out to the street to be sure I held the signal.

“Mr. Kile, the general wishes to see you. Now. Tonight.”

“Charles, it’s nearly ten-thirty. I mean, I don’t mind, but is he in shape to do this?”

I knew what Charles would say. Whether he was in shape for it or not, that decision had been made before Charles dialed my number. I left for the general’s home and arrived a few minutes before eleven.

“Charles, are you sure this is a good idea? It’s almost eleven.”

“I know, Mr. Kile, but the general is the general. When it’s time to do something, he wants to get it done. He’s waiting in his private study. You know the way. Go ahead up. He’s already ordered your Irish. I’ll bring it in right off.”

I patted Charles on the shoulder. “You’re a good man.”

“The general’s standing order whenever you are here, only this time he ordered two.” I looked at Charles. The question on my mind must have been on my face. Charles shrugged.

I took the stairs two at a time and walked into the private study. “Hello, General. You wanted to see me? If you prefer, I can come back in the morning.”

“Sit down, Matt. We’re wasting time. Let’s talk.”

A small brass lamp with a black shade sat lit on the side table, the only light in the room. I took a seat and gave him some body language for you called the meeting. You start.

“What about this murder of Cory Jackson? It must tie in somehow.”

“Seems like it should, doesn’t it? Do you have any thoughts on it, General?”

“I’m afraid it points at Eddie. That he killed Ileana. Had I just stayed out of it in the beginning justice would have likely been done and this Jackson fellow would still be alive.”

“Now hold on, General. You might be rushing out ahead of your troops.”

Right then the expected two light knocks on the door followed by Charles entering. As usual he carried the pewter tray, but this time it held two short frosted glasses. I took one. Charles stood straight and looked at the general who motioned him impatiently. Charles went to the general who took the other glass. Charles glanced toward me, and then left the room.