An Alibi A Day

by A. R. Winters

  “My goodness. I’ve never experienced anything like that. We nearly died!”

  Allie nodded, not deigning to respond. She was focusing on looking out the windscreen ahead and the rear-view mirror behind, in case the SUV returned to finish what it had started.

  They decided to drive to the police station, and Charlie called ahead to let them know they were coming. It was lucky he did, otherwise they would have been out of luck; it didn’t stay open all night. These days, only the big regional ones did.

  When they arrived, there was a light on outside, and the front door swung open as soon as they approached.

  “Allie!?” said a familiar voice. It was Eddie, the police detective and cream tea fan.

  Charlie nudged her. “Who’s that?” he asked in her ear.

  “Eddie. A police officer I know.” They walked up the path and went inside the station, while Eddie closed the door behind them.

  After being offered tea—though sadly without scones and clotted cream—they were separated and invited to give statements. This time, Allie spoke with Eddie while Charlie spoke with another man she didn’t know.

  She followed Eddie into Interview Room B, which smelled pleasingly of disinfectant. Eddie started a recording device, and they went through the events of the evening, focusing on what she remembered about the car and the immediate aftermath of the event. After she’d explained what happened, Eddie switched off the recorder with a flick of his finger. The statement had barely lasted two minutes.

  “Allie,” he said, then paused.

  “Eddie,” she replied.

  “I know what you said on your statement that you don’t know who it was, but, off the record, can’t you take a guess?”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “I really have no idea who it could have been.”

  “But...” Eddie rubbed his chin. “I know what you and Jackie have been doing, remember? I know you’ve been looking into Larry’s death. Did you find anything?”

  “Not really. Nothing. We’ve just been talking to a few people around town.” Allie considered bringing up the topic of the death threat again but remembered her promise to Michelle.

  “And did you speak to anyone tonight?”

  “Umm.”

  “Allie?”

  “Well, there was one person.”

  “What happened?”

  “Tonight, when I was in the restaurant with Charlie. I saw Ruth.”

  “Ruth, as in Larry’s girlfriend, Ruth?”

  “Yep. But she had an alibi the night of the murder, didn’t she?”

  “You know I’m not supposed to tell you things like that. But yes, she had a cast iron alibi.”

  “Then I’m sure it’s not important. But it did seem a little strange. Ruth was in the restaurant too, and she was on a date with a man called Dan.”

  Eddie tilted his head towards her. “Ruth was on a date? But Larry only just died.”

  “Right. That’s what I thought! I mean, you read about all kinds of things in the papers—open marriages, affairs, things like that. Do you think that’s what it was?”

  “Could be, I suppose. Or maybe she just hates being single. Some people are like that.” Eddie nodded to himself as if he was a fount of knowledge about people’s love lives. Allie suspected he knew about as much as she did about the more sordid aspects of the world.

  “Anyway, he was a middle-aged man, and his name was Dan. I don’t know anything more about him. Ruth didn’t want to talk, and she left right after, in rather a hurry in fact.”

  “It could be relevant then, I suppose. Though we really don’t think the murder was to do with Ruth. Now, Allie, I need to ask you to do something.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know what we said before in the café, but you’ve got to stop investigating. Please, leave it to the police. Word has been getting around about you and Jackie. Not just here. I heard you were off in Buckleminster too? Talking to Larry Junior?”

  Allie shrugged. “I think we did bump into him there, yes.”

  “You’ve got to put a stop to it, I’m afraid.”

  “Pressure from above?” asked Allie, twirling some hair around a finger and not wishing to look up to meet his gaze.

  “Not just there. From below, or at least across too. You know how people are. They all talk, and they’re all talking about how you and Jackie are playing detective and poking your noses in where they don’t belong.”

  “Okay, I understand.”

  “So, you won’t be doing any more investigating?” he pressed.

  “I said I understand,” she said with a smile and a nod that implied it was the end of the matter.

  Eddie didn’t push any further.

  Of course, she had understood, but she hadn’t agreed to comply. Since the police had been worthless so far, there was no way she was going to stop now. Her life might depend on it.

  Besides, it was a free country. There were no laws against walking and driving around and talking to people, were there?

  Eddie stood up, and Allie did the same, following him out of the interview room, down the hallway, and back to the lobby. Charlie was already there sitting on one of the plastic chairs in the waiting area.

  “Thank you for your reports. We’ll let you know if we find anything,” said Eddie.

  After thanking him for his time, Allie and Charlie headed outside. It had been another long day, but, thankfully, it was almost over. Allie planned to drop Charlie off and then draw herself a nice, hot, bubbly bath.

  “Goodnight, Eddie,” she said, over her shoulder as they left.

  “Goodnight,” came the wistful response.

  Chapter 18

  On the short drive back to the B&B the night before, Charlie had offered Allie one helpful suggestion, almost as a passing thought.

  He had told her there was someone else they should talk to: Larry’s neighbour. He was known as a bit of a busybody, and a miserable one at that, and if there had been anything suspicious going on at Larry’s house, he would definitely have seen it.

  “This car’s nice,” said Jackie, who had slid the passenger seat as far back as it would go and was now stretched out exceedingly comfortably.

  “It’s okay. I miss mine though. Especially after last night.”

  Jackie took a moment to respond. “Are you sure?” she finally said.

  “Yep.” Allie didn’t turn to look. She was focused on the road—not just ahead, but she was trying to keep an eye behind her, and one to both the left and right as well. As she only had two eyes, this was proving to be something of a challenge.

  “But seriously. You said you floored it and only just managed to escape. If you’d been in your car…”

  Allie suppressed a shudder. Jackie was right. If she had been in her car, there’s no way she would have been able to get out the way in time. She and Charlie would have been toast. Then again, she wouldn’t have been there in the first place if her car hadn’t broken down, and she hadn’t met Charlie.

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps I wouldn’t have been there at all.”

  “That’s a point. So, what’s this neighbour of Larry’s like?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t met him. From the way Charlie described him though, I think he might be a bit of a grump.”

  Jackie put her sneakers up on the dashboard, and Allie reflexively swatted them down again. Neither commented on the action. It was just part of the daily ballet that played out between them and had done for more than fifteen years.

  “Sounds like most of the people we’ve met around here. Larry. Larry Junior. Even Michelle’s been a bit reserved. Not to mention all the backwards villagers who keep giving us evil looks.”

  “Oh, they’re not backwards,” said Allie. “They just think we might be murderers.”

  “Well, they shouldn’t.”

  There wasn’t anything Allie could say to counter that, so she didn’t. It didn’t matter, as they’d arrived at their destination anyway. Allie parked on the side of
the road, and they both hopped out of the car.

  “Oh, and by the way, Eddie thinks we’ve stopped looking into all this.”

  Jackie squeezed her elbow. “You lied to him? I’m so proud of you!”

  Allie giggled. “No, he just read things into my words. He heard things I didn’t say. So anyway, if you see him, keep it in mind.”

  “Okay, I’ll remember to lie to the police next time I see them!” said Jackie far too happily.

  The driveway to Bill’s house was in a better state than Larry’s, but not by much. He had trimmed back the various bushes, shrubs, and trees so the drive wasn’t blocked, but that was about it. The paving stones which were laid from the street to the front door were all covered in decades of grime and grass and dandelions grew in healthy-looking clumps in the cracks between the paving stones.

  “What I wouldn’t give for a power washer and a couple of hours…”

  Jackie smacked her on the arm. “Stop it. We’re here to solve a murder, not to dredge up cleaning fantasies.”

  Allie raised her chin and decided to ignore Jackie. She’d dream of cleaning all she wanted, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

  There was no doorbell, but there was an old knocker that was the colour of brass that hadn’t been cleaned since before Allie was born. She stared at it, willing it to knock itself.

  It didn’t knock itself, but Jackie did, giving three smart raps on the door.

  “I hope he’s not old,” said Jackie rather meanly.

  The door swung open.

  “I am,” said the old man who opened it.

  He looked to be in his seventies or eighties and was shorter than both of the girls. He was almost bald, wore thick bifocals, and dressed in a clean but rather ancient-looking linen suit.

  “Sorry, we were talking about someone else entirely,” said Jackie with confidence and the kind of winning smile that makes a certain kind of man believe anything you tell him.

  Luckily, Bill was that kind of man and he gave her a big smile in return.

  “Well, what can I do for you two young ladies?”

  Since Jackie was doing so well, Allie let her continue doing the speaking, at least for the moment.

  “I’m Jackie and this is my sister Allie. We knew your neighbour, Larry, who was sadly taken from us. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about him? We didn’t know him as well as we would have liked, and we want to know a bit more about him.”

  Bill slowly looked Jackie up and down from her bright white trainers to the top of her baseball hat, and then gave Allie the same generous once over.

  “Of course, I’d be happy to tell you all about him. Would you like to come in?”

  No is what Allie wanted to scream but didn’t.

  “We’d love to!” said Jackie with a happy smile.

  Inside was almost as bad as Allie had expected.

  Cobwebs in the ceiling corners, wallpaper peeling off at the edges, a mustard yellow carpet that was several shades darker than it had any business being, furniture piled up with letters and newspapers and magazines, and a musty smell that seemed to get stronger with every step they took.

  “Come into the lounge and I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “That’d be great!” said Jackie, before Allie could explain that they didn’t want any tea due to her fear of being poisoned by dirty cups.

  The lounge had a three-person sofa, a couple of armchairs, a coffee table, and enough clutter to fill a small museum. If you could find a museum that specialised in rubbish, that was.

  “I love your home,” said Jackie.

  “Yes, it’s… a home,” said Allie, not quite getting the charm factor right.

  Bill didn’t seem to notice, being more interested in watching the girls than listening to them.

  “You sit down and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be back in a bit with the tea.”

  When he’d shuffled out of the room, Jackie took Allie gently by the arm and led her over to the sofa that she definitely didn’t want to sit on. When they were both in front of it, Allie was about to explain her intention to stand for the duration of their meeting with Bill, when Jackie beat her to it by stepping in front of her, giving her a delightful smile, and then a hard shove to her stomach.

  Allie toppled over backwards, landing on the sofa with a poof of dusty air, her mouth open in shock. Jackie immediately sat down right next to her with a grin, giving her a hearty slap on the thigh.

  “You didn’t want to sit there, right?”

  “No. I did not,” said Allie between sucking in breaths.

  “That’s why I pushed you. Had to. Now you’re sitting—just put up with it. He’ll think we’re weird if you insist on standing all the time.”

  “I am weird.”

  “No, you’re not! You’re just very particular.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mean peculiar?” Allie shuffled forward so she was perching on the edge of the sofa. She’d sit there if Jackie really wanted her to, but she wasn’t going to do it comfortably, damnit.

  “Peculiarly particular perhaps. Now, all we have to do is charm old Bill, and hopefully he can give us something we can use.”

  They waited for several uncomfortable minutes while Bill rattled around in the kitchen before returning with three cups of pre-sugared tea in mugs that Allie could psychically tell were full of stains on the inside.

  “Here you go, girls. Now, are you comfortable? What do you want to know?” His voice was throaty with decades of tar, and the slight wheeze that followed his words gave his voice a slightly sleazy undertone.

  He sat in an armchair across from them, both hands wrapped around his steaming mug, eyes fixed on Jackie.

  “We only knew him for a short time, and to have him taken from us so soon was such a shock. We’re feeling… incomplete, aren’t we, Allie?”

  “Oh yes, I certainly feel incomplete.” Who doesn’t feel incomplete sometimes?

  “So,” continued Jackie, “we just wanted to know a bit more. For example, our landlady at the B&B said Larry used to help people. Could you tell us about that?”

  Allie nodded at Jackie. Good idea, she thought, start with an easy question.

  Bill was shaking his head to himself. “I think you might have been misinformed. He wasn’t exactly the helpful type, old Larry. She was probably talking about his loans.”

  “Loans?” Jackie wrinkled up her nose adorably as she asked. Allie held her tongue.

  “High-interest loans. When people couldn’t get a loan from a bank, they’d go to the Bank of Larry instead. High interest, break your kneecaps if you don’t pay, kind of loans.”

  “He was a loan shark?” asked Allie incredulously. “And he broke people’s kneecaps?”

  Bill shrugged his shoulders, sending a slop of tea onto his trousers, but he didn’t seem to either notice or care. “Well, I don’t know about the kneecaps. Maybe. Wouldn’t put it past him. He knew some rough types who could help make sure he got his money back. I avoided finding out too much about it. Knowledge can be a dangerous thing, you know.”

  “But maybe those loans helped some people,” said Jackie charitably.

  Bill didn’t look convinced and just shook his head and muttered incomprehensibly.

  “Ruth seemed awfully upset.”

  “Well, she should be. Gold digging slapper that she was.”

  Allie and Jackie exchanged glances.

  Allie felt like she should ask at least some of the questions. “Did you know Dan?”

  “Dan? Ruth’s Dan?”

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “The fella who works in the cornershop? Nasty piece of work, that one. I’d stay away if I was you.”

  “Do you think he was having an affair with Ruth? I saw them together having what looked like a romantic meal.”

  Bill leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “Did you now?” He took a slurp of his tea before continuing, eyes narrowed. “Those two go way back. Ol
d friends. I doubt they’re seeing each other. Don’t know why that Ruth hangs around with him though. Nasty piece of work if you ask me.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Jackie quickly.

  Bill shrugged. “Just is. I can tell these things. Hawthorne’s full of them.”

  Allie pondered that for a moment. Was Hawthorne actually full of bad people, or was Bill just a difficult and judgemental old so-and-so? She considered asking him, but she suspected it would be rude.

  “Who do you think killed Larry?” asked Allie suddenly.

  He tilted his head at her, almost as if noticing her for the first time. He’d been so rapt with Jackie that he’d barely paid her any attention, thankfully. “Who? Well. It could be anyone, couldn’t it? His gold-digging tart, one of the people he ripped off with his loans, one of the tenants in that building—the two awful women.”

  “Two awful women?” Allie’s eyebrows had shot up her head in surprise.

  She couldn’t imagine anyone calling either Michelle or Bree awful. Michelle could be a touch terse at times, and she hadn’t been that responsive about the death threat, but she wasn’t awful. And Bree? Surely, she was the epitome of the opposite of awfulness.

  “The money raker upstairs and the faker downstairs. Wouldn’t trust either of ‘em as far as I could throw ‘em. And I’ve got arthritis. Can’t throw for thruppence.”

  “It sounds like there are a lot of bad people in Hawthorne,” said Jackie in a plaintive tone, a sad look on her face.

  Bill shook his head. “Nope. Best people in the world. You go out of here, and everywhere else is ten times worse. In London, they’ll stab you in the eye if you so much as look at someone funny.” He was nodding to himself as he spoke, pleased to be dispensing his wisdom to a willing audience.

  Jackie and Allie exchanged amused glances. While London had its share of crime, neither of them had yet been stabbed in the eye, or indeed anywhere, for looking at someone funny.