David Ellis - The Last Alibi

Cromartie holds a copy of Alexa’s driver’s license in his hand, looking at it and then showing it to me. “Wow, Alexa. Nice-looking lady,” he says.

I don’t answer.

“How long did you say you dated?”

“Several months,” I answer.

“She’s a court reporter, huh?”

I don’t answer.

“Was this a serious thing, you two?”

“We dated for several months, so, I guess so.”

“Were you engaged?”

“No.”

“Did you talk about that? Marriage?”

“No.”

“Did you love her?”

“It was a serious relationship,” I say. “People throw that word around. But it was serious.”

“Did she love you, do you think?”

I shrug, probably too casually in hindsight. I say, “I think we both thought it was serious.”

“Did she ever say she loved you, Jason?”

I pause. I’m not sure why. I shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised by the question.

“She wasn’t the type to say words like that a lot. Neither am I. Did she ever say it? I think she did, but not like a routine thing.”

That was stupid. I should have just said yes. You don’t forget when your mate breaks through that barrier and says the L word. It’s a memorable moment in any relationship. They either said it or they didn’t, and you aren’t unclear on that. If you are, then you’re an asshole, which is exactly what I look like. An asshole, or a liar.

At this point in the interrogation, I was just an asshole. But I was about to be a liar, too.

“Did you two have any, uh, y’know, bumps in the road?” Cromartie asks me.

“No more than the next couple.”

“Did you fight, Jason?”

“No more than the next couple.”

“What about in the last few days? Any fights? Problems?”

“We had our ups and downs. We’d break up and get back together. It was like that sometimes.”

“But no recent fights?”

I shake my head. “No. Nothing recent.”

Katie O’Connor stops the tape. “Lieutenant, you previously testified that you obtained Ms. Himmel’s computer and her e-mail account?”

“That’s correct.”

“Did you find any e-mails between Ms. Himmel and the defendant within the week or so preceding her murder?”

“We did.”

“I’m going to take you to the date of July twenty-seventh of this year. Did you find an e-mail on that date from Ms. Himmel to the defendant?”

“That’s correct, yes.”

“People’s Seven,” says O’Connor to the judge and Shauna. She pulls it up on a computer screen for the jury to read:

Saturday, July 27, 8:43 PM

Subj: Why??

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

Why won’t you return my calls? We can’t even TALK now??? I want to know what’s going on with you and why this is happening. Please call me.

“Is People’s Seven a true and accurate copy of that e-mail?”

“It is,” Krueger confirms.

“Move for admission of People’s Seven,” says O’Connor. Shauna doesn’t object. She objected to all of the e-mails before trial, taking her best Hail Mary shot, throwing out every possible argument she could make with a straight face-lack of foundation, overly prejudicial-but lost. So it doesn’t do us any good here to make a bigger deal about these e-mails than they already are.

“Running objection, Your Honor,” she says quietly, for the record.

“People’s Seven will be admitted,” says Judge Judy.

“Just to refresh everyone’s memory, Lieutenant, what was the date of Ms. Himmel’s murder?”

“July thirtieth,” he says.

“So this e-mail was sent three days before she was murdered?”

“That’s right.”

“Take you to July twenty-eighth,” says O’Connor. “Did you recover an e-mail from that day that was sent by Ms. Himmel to the defendant?”

And then we are looking at another e-mail, technically the following day but really just sent about five hours after the first one they just read:

Sunday, July 28, 1:41 AM

Subj: Hey you

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

Hey you, I’m trying to be patient and not push you.

I always said I wouldn’t rush you or push you into anything. But you owe me more of an explanation than you gave me, don’tcha think?

This is very hard for me, Jason. I don’t deserve this. Don’t you think I deserve better than this?????????????

And another, three hours later:

Sunday, July 28, 4:28 AM

Subj: Remember?

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

Hi. I’m up and I’m pretty sure you are, too. I’m thinking about you and thinking about US and thinking that maybe we can just wipe the slate clean and start over. A first date? Remember the first date? When I “called” you? That’s when I knew we had the same sense of humor.

I’m sure you know this is killing me. I just want to hear your reasons. I promise, promise, PROMISE I won’t bother you again if you just explain it. But if you keep ignoring me, I don’t know what I’ll do. Please don’t do this to me.

And another, that afternoon:

Sunday, July 28, 3:59 PM

Subj: A lesson

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

How To Hurt Alexa Himmel 101: Ignore her. Break her heart, but that’s not enough. Also refuse to give her a good, honest explanation. Don’t tell her you’re a COWARD or why you LIED to her and led her to believe you were a GOOD AND DECENT person when you’re not. Throw her in the trash after you’ve fucked her a bunch of times and had your jollies and leave her to die. You’d probably like it if I died, wouldn’t you? Well, just say the word, Jason, and I’ll do it. I’m dead anyway.

And this one, completing a Sunday of e-mails:

Sunday, July 28, 7:12 PM

Subj: Seriously this is important

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

I just had some GREEK food and thought you’d think that was funny. Are you laughing? You’re probably laughing AT me not WITH me. Ha ha ha poor Alexa the fucked up girl.

Anwyay, I just thought of something that could be seriously bad for you and I want to make sure you’re protected so please call me just for that and nothing else, no more explanations or anything else but I’m not kidding.

The prosecutor takes a moment, allowing the jury to drink in everything they’ve seen so far, a portrait of a troubled woman, smarting desperately from a breakup.

“Take you to the following day, Monday, July twenty-ninth of this year,” says Katie O’Connor. “The day before Ms. Himmel was murdered. Did you recover any e-mails from Ms. Himmel to the defendant on that day?”

He did, of course, an e-mail from Monday morning:

Monday, July 29, 9:13 AM

Subj: I wasn’t kidding

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

I know you’re awake. I know you’re reading this.

I wasn’t kidding. If you don’t get in touch with me your going to be seriously fucked.