Murder & Billy Bailey

by Jim Riley

  The three boys froze, two of them with eggs still in their cocked hands. The one that had thrown the egg cursed out loud. This escapade had suddenly turned more serious than he had planned.

  "Drop those eggs, boys," Niki said, now recognizing the scope of the incident.

  The other two boys dropped the eggs. Niki watched the white ovals splatter on the hard surface. All three boys raised their hands above their heads.

  The three young men wore leather jackets that signified they were athletes at Central High School. All three had football emblems, and one also had to figure of a basketball. The one with the basketball was in the middle. He had tossed the first egg.

  "All right, guys. Go over there and wipe that egg off my vehicle," she instructed while holstering the revolver.

  The two boys on the outside moved forward. The leader held out his hands.

  "Hold on, guys." He turned to Niki. "We don't have any towels. How are we supposed to wipe up the egg?"

  "You should've thought about that before you threw the egg. I don't care if you have to lick it off, but you will get it off." She answered, her body posture telling them she was not kidding.

  Again the two outside boys took a step forward. Again, the middle boy stopped them.

  "Wait, guys. She ain’t gonna shoot us. We ain't armed, and she knows it. If she shoots us, they're going to put her in jail."

  The want to his right nodded. The one to his left was not so sure. He took a step back.

  "Come on, guys. Let's get her," the middle boy reached into the pocket of the letter jacket and more eggs appeared in their hands. All three hurled eggs at Niki and charged.

  Niki deflected the first one. She caught the second and the third. Immediately, she returned fire at the two outside boys. The first egg got the kid on the right of the leader on his forehead. He jerked back. The second hit the other outside boy in his neck, yellow pigment oozing down the front of his shirt.

  The middle kid charge of full speed, his head down like a bull focused on the red blanket of the Matador. Niki easily sidestepped the athlete and chopped his neck as he passed by. The tall young man fell hard on the parking lot surface. The boy on the right came in swinging. Niki caught his right hand and use the momentum of the blow to flip him over. The kid landed on his back, air in his lungs gushing out of his body.

  The third kid, the unsure one, looked at his buddies on the ground and sprinted away. He did not bother to look over his shoulder until he was well out of sight.

  The largest boy struggled to get off the ground. He turned to face Niki, an evil snarl on his lips.

  Niki chuckled. "I'll give you this much. You're braver than you look. Not very bright, but brave. Are you sure you want more this?"

  The kid spat blood out of his mouth.

  "Ain't no girl going to get away with this. You're gonna pay."

  He charged again. The results were similar to his first attempt. Niki watched him sprawl on the parking lot surface. She turned her attention to the other boy and took a step toward him.

  The kid's eyes grew wide. He blubbered and wet his pants. After looking down at his soaked trousers, he turned and walked away. She refocused on the leader.

  "You're all by yourself now. Why are you doing this nonsense?"

  The boy rolled over, and managed to get to one knee. Niki had trouble understanding his words.

  "Because you're trying to hurt Flavia. She’s our friend, and we ain't gonna let you do that," he mumbled.

  "I'm not trying to hurt Flavia. I'm searching for the facts, not the rumors and stories that are floating around the school."

  "No, you ain't," the boy retorted. "That ain't what we heard. We heard you gonna get that pervert off."

  “I don't know what will happen,” Niki said calmly. “But I know at least part of the story is fabricated. It wasn't true last Friday, and it isn't true today.”

  "You got any proof?" The boy was now on his feet.

  Niki considered the question. "I don't. But I will get some. If part of the story is proven false, and the whole lie will fall apart."

  "How you gonna get the so-called proof?"

  "We're working on it. Somebody will eventually tell the truth. I'm sure of that."

  "We'll see. Ain't nobody at school gonna help you. Flavia is one of us. Always has been. Coach Bailey is new. He ain't one of us yet."

  The boy spat more blood.

  Niki saw no matter what she said, she had no chance of convincing this young man. In his mind, Flavia was as pure as an angel and Coach Bailey was as guilty as sin.

  She briefly wondered how many others felt the same. She was facing an uphill battle. She needed to prove Billy Bailey's innocence. A simple not guilty verdict would fail to keep the wolves from his door.

  The boy brushed off his clothes, and spat once more, this time directly at Niki.

  "This ain't over. Me and my friends will be back, and we won't be so nice the next time."

  He turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped.

  23

  Central

  Niki changed plans.

  "How are you holding up?" The strawberry blonde nests coach Bill Billy Bailey at his home in Honey Oaks subdivision.

  The home was neat and orderly, a reflection of Billy and Sara Sue's personalities. The neighborhood was middle-class, mostly homes ranging from eighteen hundred to three thousand square feet. The Bailey's brick home was right in the middle, three bedrooms and two baths, on a large country lot.

  The furniture was fairly new, but not expensive. The walls had more photographs and memorabilia than artwork. A bright purple and gold Afghan covered the back of the sofa with the words Geaux Tigers emblazoned across the park she could see. A signed LSU football helmet took up all of a short shelf.

  "I'm doing okay. It's tough to sit inside here all day while I know somebody at the school is talking about me," Bailey replied.

  He said in the over sized recliner, the TV remote resting on the table next to the chair. Old and fresh newspapers filled the magazine rack on the other side of the recliner.

  "We're doing everything we can. We made some progress, but we've had some setbacks." Niki replied, looking around to make sure Sara Sue was not home.

  Billy seemed to read her mind. "She's not here. She's at the shop. One of us has to work or we would both go crazy."

  Niki smiled. "Good. There are a couple of things I need to discuss with you. And it might be better if Sara Sue didn't hear us."

  Bailey let out a long breath. "What could she hear that could be any worse than what she has already heard?"

  "This, for one." Niki pulled out a copy of the photograph Samson Mayeaux gave her in Earl Washington's office.

  When she handed the picture to Bailey, he blanched. His mouth moved, but no words were forthcoming. The coach could not take his eyes off the images on the paper.

  "When did this happen?" Niki asked.

  "I—I don't know. Who took this? Where did you get it from?" Billy was flustered.

  "Who is the girl?" Niki pressed.

  "I don't know. I've never seen her in my life. I have no idea who she is. Where did you get this?"

  "The police send it to me." She answered truthfully. "I'm sure they also sent a copy to the prosecutor. This won't look good at your trial."

  "But that's not me," his voice shrill.

  "It sure as hell looks like you. Do you have a twin out there that Sara Sue doesn't know about?" "No. No. No twins. But they can't be me. I've never seen that girl. I don't know who she is. You gotta believe me. Somebody is making this stuff up."

  The look on Bailey's face was pure dread and trepidation.

  "Disinterested know that you have a penchant for little girls?" Niki tested him. "No. She doesn't. Wait, that's not right. She doesn't know because I don't. It's not me." Desperation replaced dread.

  "When did it start?" Niki asked. "Or has it always been that way?"

  "I don't have to say it more plainly. I don't have youn
g girls doing that sort of thing to me. Not now. Not ever." His gaze still glued to the photograph.

  Niki knew the prosecutor was preparing to grill Bailey mercilessly while showing this photograph to the jury. It was better to push the coach now rather than wait for the trial with the rest of his life was on the line.

  "You know, there are several studies that have found most male teachers, including coaches, take those positions so they can be in contact with school-age girls as often as possible. Most fantasize about being with the girls. Many don't act now their dreams, but some do. It appears that you fall in the latter category."

  Bailey's eyes were wide and unblinking.

  "I'm telling you. This isn't me. I know it looks like me, but it isn't. I would remember something like this. It didn't happen."

  "Okay, let's leave that for a minute."

  "But you don't believe me. I can tell. You still think I did it." An accusatory tone filled his voice.

  "It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is what the jury will think. If you have any skeletons in the closet, it's better to tell me now rather than wait until it's too late for me to do anything about it."

  Bailey silently handed the copy of the photograph back to Niki.

  "Do you know a man by the name of Earl Washington?" She asked.

  "Sure," Billy replied without hesitation.

  "How do you know him?"

  "We put our IRAs with him. He is our financial planner. So far, he's done a good job."

  "When was the last time you talk him?" The private investigator hoped it had been more than a year.

  "Yesterday. He called me on the phone."

  "Why?"

  "He said I needed to sign some papers. He said he was moving our accounts over to a more aggressive portfolio. He tell me that as young as we were, we should take more risks so we can get a better return."

  Niki groaned. "Please don't tell me you went to his office yesterday."

  "Why? Why is it important? Yes, I didn't have enough to keep me busy around here. I already seen that episode of Gilligan three times. So I went down there and signed the papers. Then I left."

  "Billy, I told you to stay inside this house. Not to go to the store. Not to go out to eat. Not to get gas. Nowhere."

  "But I needed to sign the papers. Why is it important? Did Washington report me to the cops?"

  "You really don't know, do you? Have you watched any of the local news today?"

  He shook his head.

  "The only news I watch is Fox News, mostly politics. I'm afraid local news will have something about my case, and I don't want to hear that garbage."

  "Earl Washington was killed yesterday, not long after you say you left his office. Is that a coincidence? The police don't think so."

  Bailey held up both palms toward Niki. "He was alive when I left. Whatever happened to him, it took place after I was gone."

  Niki ignored his protest. "What were you wearing when you went to his office?"

  "Hmm. What I already had on. Some sweatpants and a T-shirt. I put on a jacket because it was a little chilly outside."

  The private investigator did not want to single out the coat, so she asked about the sweats first.

  He replied. "Just regular sweats. Maroon, like our school colors." Niki did not like where she anticipated the description of the close going, but she had no choice but to ask about the shirt. Bailey pointed to the one he had on. Across the front it said, Property of Central High School athletic department.

  "Like this one. I've got a bunch of them."

  "In the jacket?" She asked.

  "My coach's jacket. It has become my favorite since I began coaching here. Why all these questions about my clothes? I've already told you I was there. What difference does it make if someone saw me?"

  Niki again ignored the question.

  "Were you wearing gloves?"

  Billy looked confused. "It wasn't that cold here yesterday. I didn't need gloves."

  "I need to be clear. Did you have any gloves with you when you went to Washington's office?"

  "Not that I recall," the coach answered.

  Niki's time became more firm. "I don't need that kind of answer. That sounds like your dodging the question. Did you have any gloves with you, in your pockets, on your hands, anywhere?"

  "No. I seldom wear them. I wouldn't have taken them with me yesterday."

  "When do you wear them?"

  "Only when I'm sitting outside in the cold. Like at a football game or deer hunting. If I move around, I don't need them. My hands stay warm."

  "Are you positive? You never wear gloves at any other time?"

  "Yes. I believe so. I can't remember wearing them any other time."

  "I want you to think hard. Has there ever been an occasion where you work gloves except at an outdoor event are when you go hunting? I don't need a maybe answer. I need a yes or no answer."

  "If you put it that way, the answer is no."

  "So you don't work last when you lift weights?"

  Bailey's eyebrows arched. "That's not the same. I was thinking of close. Those I wear weightlifting onto plus. They are—They are different." "What you call them?"

  Bailey closed his eyes before answering. "Gloves."

  "So what you tell me before wasn't true."

  "It was. I wasn't lying. I just wasn't thinking of that type of glove."

  “Where you keep that type of glove?”

  "In my office in the gym. There's no reason to bring them home. I keep them in a locker in my office." He avoided eye contact with Niki.

  "Are they still there?"

  "Why wouldn't they be? Sometimes, I'd let one of the kids bore them, but I always get them back."

  "When was the last time you saw them?"

  "In—When I lifted weights last Thursday before I watched film. I try to get a few reps in every day, except game days."

  Niki glanced at her previous notes.

  "Were they marked in any way? Was your name on them?"

  "I wrote my initials on them. B.B.. That way, I'm sure I'll get them back."

  Niki's chin dropped an inch or two.

  "What's wrong?" Billy asked. "Why all these questions about my weightlifting gloves?"

  "Because he dropped one of them in Washington's office." She paused. "And you were wearing your coach's jacket when you went there."

  "Hold on. I didn't drop my gloves and Earl's office. I couldn't have. I didn't have them with me."

  "Then how do you want to get close end up on the floor next to a dead man who had a photograph of you in a compromising situation in his desk? Is it all just one big coincidence?" "Earl had that picture? Why? I've already told you it's not me."

  "It sure looks like you to me."

  "Why would I have a will weightlifting glove with me to visit my financial planner? It makes no sense."

  Niki sighed. "It does of you believe the scenario that the police are considering. They think you went there with the intention of beating Washington to a pulp because he threatened to blackmail you with a photograph. When you find out that Donna was coming, you had a change of plans. That's when you decided to kill Earl."

  "Donna? It was Donna?"

  "My partner. She is the one that saw your jacket right before you hit her on the head, then used her gun to kill Washington." "I never met her. Why would the mention of her name make me change my plans, though I didn't have any. Not the kind you're talking about."

  Niki mulled that's over for a minute. She looked directly at Bailey when she spoke.

  "That's the first thing you've said that I'm positive you're telling the truth. There is no way for you to know Donna was working with me."

  More confusion in Bailey’s eyes. "What difference does that make?"

  "Because whoever set this up expecting me to go see Washington. They weren't expecting Donna to show up. They wanted the police to think Washington had mention my name to you, and that was the reason you changed your plans."

 
"But I never had any plans. I only went to sign some papers."

  "Was this the first time he ever ask you to come by to sign those kinds of papers?"

  "Yeah. He told me the only reason was because of the change in the goal of the IRAs."

  "Did he ask for Sara Sue to go with you?"

  “No. He said that I could sign for both of us since Louisiana is a community property state.”

  "Just so you'll know it in the future, you can never sign for your wife on investment document unless she has given you the power of attorney for her financial matters."

  "Oh." A sad expression from the coach. "I didn't know. I'm a football coach, not a financial planner."

  Niki smiled. "At least I know the situation we're in. One more question. Have you made a substantial withdrawal of cash recently from your accounts?"

  Billy laughed out loud. "That question seems I have substantial sums in my two accounts, one savings and one checking. I can assure you I don't. Sara Sue and I are just getting started."

  "Good. That's one thing in our favor. Although maybe not. The courts may think without any money, the only way to prevent Washington from exposing that photograph was for you to eliminate him."

  "I didn't know he had it. Heck, I didn't know there was a photograph out there like that want anywhere because they can't be me."

  Niki sat back in the chair, pretending to read through her notes, but in reality taking time to put all the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind.

  When she spoke, she was clear and concise.

  "Somebody is going to a lot of trouble to frame you for rape and molestation of minors. And now with murder. Who has something to gain with your demise?"

  Shock filled Billy's face. "Are you saying that someone set me up for financial gain? That is ludicrous."

  "Do you have a better explanation? Are you guilty?"

  "No."

  She nodded. "For a little while, I doubted you. But they made a mistake. The best way for their scenario to fit was if I went to Washington's office. Instead, Donna went and you have never met Donna."