Joseph Kanon - Alibi

“Wait. I’ll do it,” I said, tying the boat.

But before I could step out I heard the other engine, grinding in neutral out past the dock light, looking around. I turned to see the blue light, then back at Rosa. “Run. There’s no time now.”

“And you?”

“I’ll say you forced us. Something. Just get going.”

“Help me. I can’t leave him.”

“Are you crazy?” Claudia said, her voice hoarse, breathing hard. She had started dragging the body but only managed to pull the tarp away. Now, looking at Moretti, then out toward the blue light, she seemed desperate, gulping air. “He’s dead. Look. What does it matter now? We did this to save him, so he wouldn’t be blamed for us. We could have done nothing, let him take the blame. But we didn’t. And now? Look. It doesn’t matter to him now. Let him be the guilty one. Then it’s over. We have to save ourselves.” She knelt by the body, reaching for the loose tarp. “Look.”

But Rosa was staring at her, eyes round, no longer seeing the body.

“But he’s not the guilty one,” she said evenly. “You. Take the blame for you. That’s what it meant, in the boat. How you knew what to do.” She looked at me. “Both of you? But why?”

I heard the engine again, louder. Why? There must have been a reason once.

“Rosa, just go,” I said.

“Leave him alone,” she said to Claudia. “What? Another one for the lagoon?” She turned back to me. “Yes, both. How else to do it? It takes two. All along, pretending-”

Behind us, some shouts, a light rippling up the canal.

“Rosa, they’re coming.”

“What were you doing? A game? And this boy-what, he’d pay for you?”

“No. That’s why we-” I turned to see the blue light closer, almost at the entrance. “They’re coming. Run.”

“And leave him? Then he’s their murderer. That’s what you want,” she said to Claudia. “Carlo’s boy, a murderer. Think of his name.”

“His name?” Claudia said. “He’s dead.”

“They’ll kill you,” I said.

“Not before I tell them.”

Claudia pulled out Moretti’s gun, then got up slowly, holding it in front of her.

“No, you won’t do that. For what? He’s dead.”

“Claudia, put it down.” I turned to Rosa. “Just run. We’ll cover you.”

“He doesn’t pay,” she said, looking calmly at the gun.

“Oh, but we do?” Claudia said. “The living.”

“Nobody pays,” I said, impatient, my head swirling with the sound of the engine, close enough to be in the canal now. “What? For Gianni? He was a murderer.”

“Yes? And what are you?” And then, before I could say anything, “Yes, me too. Many times.” She looked down at the body. “But not him. There is an obligation here.”

“Obligation,” Claudia said. “To whom? Go. We’ll tell them something. Maybe they’ll believe it.”

“No, they’ll believe me.”

“Then you’ll kill us,” Claudia said quietly.

There was a swell of water, a boat pulling close.

“Rosa,” I said, “please. Run.”

“I can’t,” she said, reasonable. “With my leg? I can’t make it now anyway. The car-it’s not possible. No time.”

“They’ll kill you.”

She glanced at the gun, her mouth twisting in a faint smile. “Who does it first? You or them?”

“I will,” Claudia said, breathless.

“And how do you explain this one?” Rosa said, looking at me. She shook her head. “Then you’ll pay for me. Me, him-you’ll pay for one of us, either way.”

There were shouts now, the sounds of people getting off a boat, coming up behind us the way the pursuit boat had, so that I wanted to hold up my hand again to make it stop.

“To come this far,” Claudia said. “No. You want to die? But not us. Not now. I’ll survive you too.”

Rosa looked at her, still calm. “How?”

And then suddenly everything did stop, startled by a roar so loud it drove every other sound out of the air. No footsteps at the end of the dock, no soft moan as Rosa’s face went slack with surprise, no boats creaking or buoy bells out on the lagoon. The world turned silent. Rosa slumped and fell over. Claudia lowered the gun, shoulders drooping, and looked at it dumbly, as if it had gone off by itself, all without a sound, happening somewhere quiet, out of reach. Then air started rushing back into my eardrums. How do you explain this one? Another body. Claudia with a gun in her hand.

I stepped forward, putting myself between Claudia and Rosa’s body. I heard footsteps again. No time. But there had to be some way, one last alibi. Claudia was staring at me, still in the quiet place.

“Listen to me. Shoot me,” I said.

She blinked.

“Here,” I said, touching my shoulder. “Then put Rosa’s gun in her hand. She tried to kill us, but I got her before she could shoot again. Understand? Put the gun in her hand. I had to shoot back. Here.” I touched my shoulder again. “Do it.”

“Shoot you,” she said vaguely, as if she were trying to translate.

“Just do it,” I said, almost growling. “Quick. It’s a chance.”

“Yes,” she said, still vague, but raising her hand.

I looked down at the gun, followed it up until it was pointed at my chest.

“Here,” I said, touching my shoulder again, and in that second I saw what she must have seen too, that the shoulder was only a chance but the heart could be the end of it, the story they would believe, Rosa’s forcing us out onto the lagoon, my grabbing Moretti’s gun, her shooting me as I fired it, both dead. Only Claudia alive. Free of all of us, the bullet finally stopped.

I looked at her, eyes steady, no expression at all. I’ll survive you too. The only thing that matters when no one is watching. My throat felt thick, closing up. Maybe this was the only part that was true-not the hotel near the station, slick with sweat; not the ball, fingering the necklace, excited in spite of ourselves; not the magistrate’s office, solemn in Bertie’s corsage, or afterward, looking up at the high windows to find her father. Instead I saw her face as she brought down the stone on Gianni’s head, saw a hand come out from under the bed with a knife-wasn’t it possible? Who would blame her? Who would blame her now? One second and it was done, no longer than it had taken to silence Rosa. She moved her hand a little, taking aim. I could flinch now, duck, somehow break the trance between us before she could fire. But then I’d never know. Never know what was left. And I realized suddenly that I wouldn’t move, that it was worth my life to know. The one thing in it that mattered, the rest just sleepwalking.

“Do it,” I said, almost whispering.

She looked at me, her eyes moving now, harried.

“The shoulder,” I hissed. “That’s the story.”

No sound but the blood in my head. I glanced down at her hand, waiting for the finger to move.

“ Brava,” a voice said, stepping out of the dark, the white sling visible before his face.

Claudia turned, the gun still pointing at me, but her eyes fixed now behind me. Cavallini walked over.

“Excellent. Except for the bullets-they would match. Two people shot with the same gun? Even the police would notice.”

He took the gun from her, too stunned now to move, quiet again. The others waited behind, only partly visible on the dock.

“Rosa,” he said, shaking his head as he walked over to her, stepping past Moretti. “How did you say? She forced you to take out the boat.” He paused. “After we had left, of course. It would be embarrassing otherwise.” He touched the body with his toe, pushing it slightly, then jumped back when it moved, a twitch that might have been a reflex but then happened again, still alive. “ Stronzo.” Angry now, glancing up at Claudia, annoyed. Still alive. He looked quickly toward the dock, then pointed the gun down and fired into Rosa’s chest, close. Her body jerked from the force of it.