An Alibi A Day

by A. R. Winters

  For example, now that he thought about it, on the day that Larry was killed, he’d had a visitor early that morning. He hadn’t even mentioned it to the police. In fact, it had only come back to him after the girls had left. It probably wasn’t important.

  He licked his fingers.

  Or was it?

  If it was, he thought, then the police would want to know. But so might other people.

  If there was one thing he’d learned in his many years on this planet, it was that knowledge could be a powerful thing. If you knew the right things, you could turn them into money. Whether it was turning knowledge of a skill into a paid trade or simply letting someone know that you would happily keep their secret…. for a price, knowledge was valuable.

  And he had some.

  Slowly, he stood up, picked up his two plates and tea mug and carried them into the kitchen. He dropped them into the sink. He’d wash them later. He deserved a rest after the morning he’d had.

  But he wouldn’t rest quite yet. He had to do something first.

  He walked out into the hallway. There was a small, old wooden table with a single drawer near the front door. On it was his telephone. He opened the drawer, pulled out his address book, and looked up a number. There, there it was.

  He slowly punched the numbers on the phone.

  It had been better in the old days when you could stick your finger in there and turn the noisy, clicky disc, but the telephone company had insisted on switching him over to digital in the 1980s. He’d never forgiven them.

  It wasn’t a long phone call. Less than a minute, in fact.

  When it was over, he headed back into the lounge. He turned on the television and settled onto his settee for a nap while the sultry tones of daytime television presenters lulled him to a well-deserved rest.

  He didn’t wake up again until the knock on the door at 4PM.

  He blinked himself awake, climbed up off of the sofa, and made his way to the front door.

  Visitors, twice in a day. It was like old times.

  “Coming, I’m coming,” he called when the visitor rapped on the door again, impatiently.

  And old Bill went to open his front door with a mutter.

  He’d be glad when the day was over.

  Chapter 22

  When Allie and Jackie left their B&B the next morning, they could tell something was wrong almost right away.

  “Did you see that?” said Jackie. “That woman just gave me a nasty look!”

  She nudged Allie to indicate the frumpy grey-haired woman on the other side of the road who was now hurrying away.

  “She was probably just jealous of your figure.”

  Jackie didn’t seem convinced, just shaking her head and frowning.

  When they walked into Bree’s Café, however, the hostility was confirmed.

  There were mumblings and mutterings, hushed words of complaint, and furious glances from every corner of the room save one, where Grandma Em was sitting.

  “What’s the matter? What’s going on? I thought people were giving us the evil eye before, but now…”

  As soon as they had sat down, Em leaned across the table. “There’s been another murder!”

  Allie’s skin began to tingle, and she could feel the blood rushing out of her cheeks. She felt almost faint. Another murder, in Hawthorne?

  “Who? What happened?” asked Jackie, her face scrunched up in concentration.

  “An old man called Bill. Lived next door to Larry. Sometime yesterday afternoon, he was murdered in his own home! Right next door to Larry!” Allie and Jackie exchanged panicked glances while Em carried on. “But that’s not the worst of it, I’m afraid.”

  “What is the worst of it?” asked Allie impatiently. She was of the strong opinion that people should begin with the most important things first, rather than building up to them.

  “Some people are saying that you two were seen at his house yesterday! I know it’s rubbish, but—”

  Jackie reached across and grabbed her grandmother’s arm. “It’s true.”

  Allie nodded. “We went to see Bill yesterday, around lunch time.”

  “Oh, no.” Grandma Em was shaking her head to herself. “That’s just terrible timing, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is,” said Jackie.

  “Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence,” said Allie. “Maybe he was murdered because we went to talk to him.”

  “What were you doing there anyway?”

  “We thought he might know something about Larry’s death. Since he lived next door and had known him for years, we were hoping he might be able to shine some light on the matter and help us find out who killed him.”

  “And did he help? Surely he would have spoken to the police already?”

  “He might have helped a little. He did reconfirm that there’s someone we should talk to.”

  Em looked worried. “Girls, I think you should leave it. That’s two murders in as many weeks.”

  “We won’t do anything dangerous, promise,” said Allie who fully intended to keep that promise.

  “Who is it that you want to talk to?”

  “His name’s Dan. He’s a friend of Ruth’s.” Allie absentmindedly but carefully straightened the salt and pepper pots while she spoke. “But Bill said he’s not a very nice guy at all.”

  Em slowly nodded her head in thought. “Bill was a miserable old sod, but I don’t think he’s wrong about that one. He’s got a cold streak, that Dan.”

  “A cold streak?” asked Allie.

  Em nodded. “He pretends to be nice, but you can tell that underneath he just doesn’t care about anyone or anything—unless it can help him. I don’t know what Ruth sees in him.”

  “Do you think he was having an affair with Ruth?” asked Allie while she adjusted the paper napkin dispenser.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I’ve always wondered about those two. They go way back, but they’ve never been an item as far as I know. Just friends.” Em took a sip of tea. “Oh girls, everyone’s talking about you now. That’s two old men, in neighbouring houses, that you talked to just before they died. It’s just the most frightful luck.”

  But Allie didn’t think it was a run of bad luck. At least not the second murder.

  Bill must have known something. But what?

  The women chatted some more, and after a vitalising mug of tea, Allie and Jackie headed out to the cornershop to try and speak to Dan Simpson.

  Mackleton’s was about a minute’s walk up the road, and like the rest of the business on the High Street, it was in an old stone building with a door that was just a bit too low.

  Of course, they had visited the shop many times over the years, but only quickly popping in and out. Neither Allie nor Jackie were familiar with any of the staff who worked there.

  Inside, the shop was more brightly and harshly lit than Allie expected. It’s always a surprising contrast to go into an ancient building and be greeted with the modern office-style fluorescent lighting with all the sterile charm of an operating theatre.

  Allie was surprised and annoyed after scanning the shop upon entering. It was a mess. Half the items on the shelves weren’t lined up, in some cases the remaining products hadn’t been pulled forward to replace spaces left by purchased items, and there was even a packet of ham and mustard crisps sitting on the floor instead of the shelf! All the while, the shopkeeper on duty was standing behind the counter like a lemon instead of making the place presentable—or at least attempting to.

  Allie started to make her way over to the counter, but Jackie paused her with a nudge. They waited while an elderly lady purchased a packet of lemon drops, painstakingly counting out a whole handful of coins to make the purchase. When she’d finally finished, Jackie nudged Allie again.

  “Hi, Dan, right?”

  He raised a hand and tapped his chest, which had a name badge reading DAN SIMPSON and underneath in smaller writing, DUTY MANAGER, affixed to his polyester uniform shirt.

  “We met the othe
r day, in that Italian restaurant. You were with Ruth. Do you remember?”

  His face dropped. “Oh, yes. I remember. Can I help you find anything?”

  Yeah—the killer! was what Allie wanted to say, but she didn’t. “No… I was wondering, I don’t mean to pry, but were you and Ruth on a date?”

  Dan put his hands palm down on the countertop and leaned over. He was significantly taller than Allie, even at this tilted angle. “Ruth and I are just friends. I know what you’re implying, and the answer is no.”

  “What were we implying?” asked Jackie innocently.

  “That me and Ruth were having an affair. We weren’t and we aren’t. We’re old friends. That’s all.”

  “What did Larry think of your friendship?” asked Allie.

  “I’ve got no idea what that old coot thought. Never even met him. Didn’t want to or need to.”

  “But she was your friend’s boyfriend!” said Jackie sounding surprisingly shocked.

  “Boyfriend? More like old-man-friend. Just because she made a mistake didn’t mean I had to get involved. Her love life’s her own business.”

  Allie decided to try a different tact: lying. “It’s just… people are beginning to talk.”

  In a flash, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed. “People? What people?”

  “Just... people,” said Allie, waving her hands vaguely in the direction of outside.

  “What are they saying? That I killed Larry to be with Ruth? They’re some stupid people if that’s what they think. Maybe I should teach ‘em a lesson.”

  Allie shrugged, palms up. “I know, it’s awful, isn’t it? The same thing happened to us, you know. People keep whispering and saying things behind our backs. We know how it feels.”

  Jackie was nodding along in agreement. “It’s a horrible feeling, knowing that people are talking about you killing someone behind your back.”

  Dan looked fierce but confused, his knuckles white and his lip trembling like he wanted to lash out but didn’t have a suitable target to lash out at.

  “They better not say anything where I can hear it, or there’ll be trouble, I can tell you. Idiots, the lot of ‘em. If I wanted Ruth to be my girlfriend—which I don’t—but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have to kill Larry to make it happen. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, and killing an old codger to get his girl is about the stupidest way to skin that one.”

  Allie shuddered at the mental imagery his words had given her. She wasn’t a fan of metaphors in general, but that one was particularly gruesome.

  “Do you know Michelle, in the B&B?”

  The change of topic was good for Dan’s demeanour. His features softened quickly to a smile, and in a moment his face looked as calm as anyone’s.

  “Michelle? The miserable old cow at that failing B&B?”

  Jackie and Allie exchanged tight-lipped glances. They didn’t like to hear their hostess insulted, but this probably wasn’t the best time to defend her honour either.

  “Yes, her,” said Allie. “We heard she might have owed Larry a lot of money.”

  Dan cocked his head, this new information seeming to be of great interest. “Now that wouldn’t surprise me. Larry did do loans, and I can definitely see her needing one.” He nodded his head to himself. “Yeah, I could see her borrowing a bunch of money from him and then being unable to repay it.”

  “She said that Larry and her were friends.”

  Dan snorted. “Friends? I don’t think Larry had friends.”

  The door to the shop swung open, and Allie turned to see who it was. An elderly but upright old man strolled in holding a cane that looked like he used it more for whacking people with than assisting him in his walking.

  He walked straight to the counter and made a point of standing directly behind Allie, smacking the bottom of his cane onto the floor three times as he came to a halt to announce his place in the queue he had just started.

  “We better get going,” said Jackie. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “Bye, Dan. Good luck,” said Allie with a genial smile.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Arm in arm, heads huddled together, Allie and Jackie left Dan to his work.

  Chapter 23

  When they returned to the café, Grandma Em was still there, but she was no longer alone. Somewhat surprisingly, it wasn’t a male tourist of a certain age that she had persuaded to join her, it was actually just Aunt Kay.

  Aunt Kay was in her forties, and with two children and a full-time job, she didn’t have much time for hanging around in cafés in the daytime. She was a slender woman who was naturally pretty, but her hectic and stressful lifestyle meant that most of the time she looked exhausted and drawn rather than glamorous. Today was no exception, and she looked as if she’d just finished a marathon after several days of severe sleep deficit.

  Grandma Em lived with Aunt Kay, helping her run the household—at least in theory. In practice, Em kept such a busy life herself, that she wasn’t quite as much of a help as she imagined herself to be.

  As they approached the table, Em and Kay looked up, both with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

  “Hi, girls. Sit down, we’ve some news,” said Aunt Kay. Grandma Em nodded in affirmation, her face grim.

  “Oh no, what’s happened now?” said Jackie as she slid into a chair.

  Allie sat down opposite Jackie, clasping her hands in front of her in preparation for hearing about whatever the latest disaster was.

  “I’m sorry to say we’ve got some bad news for you.”

  “There’s not been another murder?” asked Allie.

  “No, thank goodness. Nothing quite that bad,” said Kay. “It’s this—”

  Grandma Em raised up a hand in a halting motion and nodded her head towards the door. They all looked over to see Michelle entering.

  “—well, I’ll let her explain.”

  Michelle walked straight over the table and stood over them, a nervous but determined look on her face.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Jackie as she flexed her extended arms over her head.

  “Allie, Jackie, I’ve appreciated your custom over the years, but, well…” Michelle hesitated, wringing her hands together and looking down at her shoes instead of at them. She took a deep breath, straightened up, and focused on Allie, looking her in the eye directly. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave the B&B. I’ve been getting complaints. Numerous complaints.”

  “But I kept our room so tidy!” said Allie indignantly.

  The other three women gave her funny looks.

  “I’ve been getting complaints that I’m harbouring suspected murderers, Allie. I’m sure you girls were nothing to do with Larry’s death. Or Bill’s. And it was just coincidence that you visited both of them just before they died, but other people don’t see it that way. I said that you two were like angels, but all I heard back was that you were like angels of death.

  “Nope. I’m sorry, but you have to leave. If you don’t, people are going to start boycotting me and leaving bad reviews. It’s a shame, and I don’t want to do it, but I’ve got to protect my business.” Michelle had grown in confidence as she spoke, and when the words were all out, she stood there with a defiant look on her face, daring them to argue with her.

  “I think you’re cowardly,” said Grandma Em.

  “I’m very disappointed in you, Michelle,” said Aunt Kay. Her claim of disappointment sounded much more cutting than Em’s insult.

  “If you could remove your things from your room as soon as possible, I would be most grateful. I’ve already authorised a full refund to your credit card. I’ll be upstairs. Good day.” Michelle turned and left as soon as she was done, not willing to hear any more of their thoughts on the matter.

  “We could fight it,” said Jackie. “I’m sure we have some consumer rights, don’t we?”

  Em and Kay both nodded firmly.

  “If you want to fight, we’ll back yo
u,” said Em.

  Allie shook her head. “I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted.”

  Jackie sighed. “No, nor do I. Not really. It’s just the principle of the thing that gets me.”

  They all agreed with that.

  “You can stay in our spare room, if you like,” said Aunt Kay quietly.

  She’d offered them the room many times over the years, but Allie had always insisted on staying at the B&B. Kay’s house was fine, but with her children and busy lifestyle it often looked like a particularly unfriendly tornado had recently passed through. That, and she’d clearly never properly studied the finer aspects of the art of cleaning.

  “Oh, could we?” said Jackie. “We’d really appreciate it, wouldn’t we?”

  The kick arrived before Allie could even think about explaining why staying at Kay’s house would be impossible.

  “Umm, oh, yes please,” said Allie, bending down to rub her shin.

  She was already mentally planning: she would turn the spare room into a shrine to calm and cleanliness and simply do her best to ignore the rest of the house. Perhaps she could get some blinkers like a horse for whenever she had to traipse through the rest of the home. She wasn’t sure if they made them in human sizes though.

  “If you grab your stuff from upstairs, we can get you set up right away. I’ve got an evening shift later though, so don’t tarry.”

  Allie and Jackie quickly agreed and went back upstairs to pack their things, leaving Grandma Em and Auntie Kay to worriedly drink their tea and continue discussing their disappointment in Michelle.

  Two hours later, they were each sitting on one of the white-sheeted single beds in Aunt Kay’s spare bedroom. It was on the ground floor of the house and had probably spent most of its life as a study of some kind, but it was now set up as a bedroom. It was almost nice.

  The walls were the bare stone of the cottage, which with its dark grey tone actually came across as warmer than it may have sounded. The floor, too, was stone, but it had been mostly covered with a large oriental-style rug, which hadn’t taken Allie too long to vacuum clean.