The Original Alibi

Chapter 36

Karen came in first and walked over to me clearly unsure of herself after my having tossed her fanny out of my condo the last time we were together. “What’s going on, Matt?”

“I have no idea. Your father has asked us all to assemble. He’s on his way down. Given his health, I assume he has something final he wishes to say to you all. He asked that I stay.”

Eddie came in and when Karen saw his confused expression, she shrugged, adding, “The general wants to talk with us all. That’s all we know.”

Charles came in a moment later, leaving the double doors to the study open wide. A minute or so later, the general wheeled through the open doors. Charles walked over to him. When he got close, the general took his hand out from under his lap blanket. In it he held his Welrod British pistol. The one reportedly stolen years ago. He raised it and without hesitation shot Charles in the chest. Then he worked the bolt-action and shot him a second time.

The general had heard Charles confess and believed him as I did. It was too late for me to do anything, for anyone to do anything. It happened too quickly, too unexpectedly. I draped a napkin over my hand, went to him and took the Welrod with my fingers. I put the British assassin’s pistol on the table; the smell of the firing still flavoring the air.

The general wheeled himself around Charles’s body and positioned himself so we were looking at him and not Charles.

He looked directly at Eddie. “Charles killed Ileana and your son, my great grandson. He deserved to die and I wanted to be certain the sentence was carried out in my lifetime. He got swift, certain justice. We need more of that.”

“But,” Karen said, “but how do we know?”

“It’s true,” I said. “It all fits. Charles killed them. He spoke to Jackson, Montoya and the Yarbroughs using his own voice, none of them knew him. He disguised his voice to that of a woman when he called the general to sell the alibi, and the second call telling him to throw the satchel with the extortion money over the cliff.” I looked at the general. He nodded.

“But,” Karen said, waving her arms, “that doesn’t prove Charles was the killer.”

“Karen, I’m sorry to be blunt. There isn’t enough time to do otherwise. Charles was your father. Your birth father anyway. He felt you were entitled to more of the estate. You lived as the general’s daughter and treated him with respect and dignity. To the contrary, Eddie did nothing to show love for his grandfather. Before you condemn the general, you should recall that you offered me a chance to do something similar. Your reason was greed. The general’s reason was justice.”

“I always suspected it was one of us,” Eddie said. “That ate at me. But given the friction between us, Mr. Kile, why would you not conclude I was the killer?”

“I was investigating a murder, not judging a popularity contest. You don’t have the stomach for murder. Now before you feel insulted, don’t be. Not having the stomach to kill for any reason is not something to be ashamed of.”

“But why not me?” Karen asked. “I mean, after I asked you-” She stopped, letting her words hang up in her throat.

“If you had killed Ileana, you could have simply killed Eddie as well, but you couldn’t kill Eddie, he was family. You would have expected Eddie to come apart after being arrested, and humiliate himself in front of the general who would then amend his will. That is exactly what Charles anticipated. But Eddie has more inside than any of us gave him credit for having, and held it together through that ordeal. Later, with the general dying and the will not changed, time was running out and you became desperate enough to approach me. As for Cliff, had he helped you kill Ileana, your relationship with him could not have lingered on the same level it has for these past eleven years. And, had he killed for you before, you would have used him to kill Eddie, not come to me. You’re guilty of nothing more than greed poisoning you into inviting me to murder Eddie. In the end, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. You couldn’t kill Eddie, but Charles had several years of covert action behind enemy lines.” Before I finished, Karen had begun nodding.

“Mr. Kile,” Eddie said, “if Charles killed Ileana, why would he frame me and also provide an alibi for my release? The frame alone would have gotten me out of the way.”

“Charles saw himself in a difficult position. All Karen’s life, he had given up knowing her as his daughter for one purpose, to afford her the opportunity to share in the general’s estate. He dedicated himself to the belief she was entitled. His conflict came from his concurrent devotion to the general. He could not bring himself to be the cause of you going to prison for life or possibly being put to death. Juries can be incensed when unborn children are murdered. So, Charles crafted a solution that adequately balanced the things he held dear. He expected you would fall apart upon being arrested. And the general, after seeing you crying and begging, would reconsider the division of his estate.”

Eddie stood up, lowered his head and stayed quiet, then spoke calmly. “Mr. Kile, I see no reason for our calling the police. Nothing here will be changed for the general, only for the rest of us. The general will never see a prison. Likely never even a courtroom. If you agree, what can we do?”

“Karen, do you agree with what Eddie just said? I understand this is all very confusing and difficult for you, not to mention sudden.”

She sat still for what seemed longer than it was. Then she nodded, at first almost unnoticeably, then stronger. “Yes, nothing will be accomplished by bringing the police in. I was nearly as guilty as Char-my father. How should we handle it?”

I disassembled the Welrod and wrapped in a newspaper and handed it to Eddie. “Drive over the Terminal Island Bridge and toss this piece by piece. Stop in an empty lot several miles off the route you drive and burn the newspaper. Then come back immediately. We call the police when you return. Karen, you and Eddie were in here with the general. The shot came from outside, through the opened door. I arrived about five minutes later. After I helped settle things, I spent some time looking around outside. Then we called the police.”

“Why can’t we just say you were here with us the whole time?”

“Because of my police background, Sergeant Fidgery would expect me to have behaved in a certain manner. I would have taken flight outside immediately, before the shooter could get away without being seen. No. My skills cannot have been here. You two were shocked. Stunned. Dumbfounded. You did nothing. You just froze. I arrived after the murder of the general’s longtime friend and loyal staff man.”

The general spoke for the first time. “This isn’t necessary. Call the police. I will confess.”

“General. No. You don’t want to saddle Eddie and Karen with having to deal with this. You will never be tried, and never imprisoned. Truth is, you simply don’t have enough time left for any real legal proceeding. You don’t want this hanging over them forever. Scandal sheet gossip, talk shows, my guess is even a made-for-TV movie. There could be legal challenges to your will, who knows. Don’t make this your legacy to them. If you insist on confessing, the fact that Karen is not your daughter will come out. After that she will always be known as the daughter of the man who killed General Whittaker’s great grandson. You don’t want that for her.”

I explained that Cliff had been absent at my instruction. That he had remained loyal to the family and his not being around should in no way be held against him. I also advised them to not share what really happened with Cliff. It will provide no benefit, and each person who knows stretches the rubber band closer to the breaking point.

Eddie walked over to the general. “Grandfather, Mr. Kile is right. We need to get moving. Do it his way.” The general looked up and said, “Okay, Eddie.”

“And, Grandfather,” Eddie said, “Karen is your daughter. That is how she was raised. It is time for all this to stop poisoning this family. Please contact Reginald Franklin and have him revise your will to provide equal portions for Karen and myself. Charles, of course, should no longer be included, but Cliff should and also Ileana’s parents, just as you have them now. Have Franklin bring your new will here immediately for your signature.” The general started to speak, but Eddie put his hand on the general’s shoulder. “Grandfather, your will has caused too much pain, too many suspicions among us all. I’m sorry for the way I have acted. It’s time I grow up, past time. I want you to do this.”

“We need to get moving, folks,” I said. “Time is an important element in these things.” I turned to face Eddie. “Pick up Charles and put him on the couch. The police won’t like your having moved the body. You didn’t know any better. You acted from caring. That’s part of why I couldn’t have been here. I would have prevented you from moving him. And remember, all of you, Charles was facing the open door to the patio when he was shot.”

Then I stepped closer to Karen. “Take the general upstairs. I want him to shower. Scrub his hair. Clean his knuckles and under his fingernails, his ears and inside his nostrils. Everything he is wearing is to be immediately put in the washing machine with the hottest water possible, including his lap blanket, even his slippers. Clean his glasses, very well. Soak them while he is in the shower. When he’s out, put his wheelchair in the shower and wash it, including the leather seat and back. Have him put on different clothes and come back downstairs. By that time Eddie should be back. Come on now. We’ve got no more than an hour. I came fifteen minutes after the shot and spent about a half an hour outside, then we called the police. Let’s get a move on. Now! Oh. Karen, get the doors and windows open down here. We can’t smell it right now, but the shot fired in here was supposed to have been fired from outside. Get this place aired. Close it up when you come downstairs. Okay. Scat.”

Eddie moved Charles onto the couch. Then Eddie took the wrapped gun from me and left for the garage in a jog. Karen pushed the general’s wheelchair out the door toward the elevator. With them gone from the room, I went out the glass door to do the things I would do if looking around for the shooter or anything left behind. I made sure my footprints were in the garden and across the lawn. I went out into the driveway and along the side of the house noticing the things there sufficiently to be able to discuss where I had looked.

*

Karen brought the general back downstairs a few minutes before Eddie got back. When they returned the general was in his wheelchair with the tube from the oxygen tank aiding his breathing. They had swapped out the seat and back cushion of the wheelchair from the leather one they had scrubbed to a fabric covered set. He handed me an envelope. “Your fee, Matt. You have served my family well.”

We went back over the facts of how we would play it. I cautioned them to put it in their own words so it wouldn’t sound rehearsed. We moved the time of the shooting up so that only about forty minutes had passed before I called Fidge to report the murder of the general’s devoted friend, Charles Bickers.

Someday I will tell Fidge what really went down this day at the home of General Whittaker, after the general has died, in a few days.

This wasn’t perfect justice. Not in an antiseptic textbook fashion anyway. But like I said earlier, I remain more interested in getting things as close to right as possible than I am in how that gets accomplished. And the hell with the details.