The Incident

by Andrew Neiderman

  Tony took a gulp on his soda.

  ‘You’re not my number-one suspect for killing Marvin Hacker either,’ Rob offered. ‘But you don’t want too much more of me sniffing around your life.’

  Tony nodded. ‘Yeah, he bragged,’ he admitted.

  ‘Recently, right?’

  Tony’s eyes moved from one side of the room to the other. Rob could almost hear his thoughts. How did he know it was recent? ‘Yeah,’ he said.

  ‘Because the news is out about her getting married, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘And Marvin was bragging because she’s marrying Bart Stonefield, right? Tell me why that struck him as funny, Tony,’ he said, leaning forward again. ‘I want to hear you say it.’

  Tony hesitated, but he was quite impressed. This guy’s going to know a lot, he thought.

  ‘Because he was there,’ he said. It just seemed to roll off his tongue.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘He was in their truck, stoned. He smoked a lot of pot in those days. Maybe he still does. I don’t know.’

  ‘Did Marvin ever tell you how much he knew?’

  ‘No. He just said …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That he knew.’

  TWENTY

  Victoria ran her right hand over the smooth black marble countertop in the Jackson house kitchen. Whether the ex-sheriff had his house spick and span because she and Bart were coming over to consider it or not, everything gleamed as if it was all just recently installed and constructed. She knew her mother wanted this rich-looking floor tile in her kitchen, too, and constantly talked about having it installed. She’d love the gas range oven/griddle/rotisserie combo and this side-by-side refrigerator, Victoria thought.

  ‘Anything you guys want that’s here in the way of furniture is yours,’ Bill Jackson said. ‘Consider it my wedding gift.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Bart said.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Victoria said, her voice filled with amazement.

  The burly ex-sheriff, with a full head of thick, salt-and-pepper hair, stood behind them like a proud father. ‘I had a decorator do this house. There was a picture of it in one of those fancy New York magazines. I got it somewhere, buried in a closet.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Bart said. ‘Looks very comfortable, too.’

  ‘Cozy is what they called it because of the warm color schemes and the furnishings. I regret not spending enough time here, but I had one of those twenty-four-hour on-call jobs.’

  Bart leaned in to bring his lips close to Victoria’s ear. ‘Looks hardly lived in.’

  She nodded.

  Neither Bill Jackson nor his prospective new bride, Nancy Hickman, had any pets, nor were there any children living with them. There was little evidence of a normal daily life. No dishes or glasses were left out, magazines were neatly placed in the magazine rack, all beds were made, the pillows fluffed, and towels were folded over the towel rails. It looked more like a model home. Every little thing was chosen to coordinate.

  Victoria was almost too excited to speak. The house was quite a bit larger than her parents’ home, and with all the upgrades in fixtures, new carpets, tiled bathrooms and walk-in closets in the master bedroom that were almost as large as her bedroom, it was truly overwhelming.

  ‘You can have the television and stereo system, too,’ Bill added. ‘It plays the new tape cassettes. I got speakers in all the rooms. Teddy Kolansky set it all up. You know Teddy?’ he asked Bart.

  ‘Yes. We sold him a van recently. He’s a whiz with television repairs.’

  ‘Yeah. He put up that amazing antenna that brings in the best picture in the county.’

  They continued to explore the house and then looked at the two-car garage. There was a good-size box freezer in it. Bill opened it to show them it was stocked.

  ‘Saves running out for stuff,’ he said, smiling. He was still quite a good-looking man with practically no deep lines to suggest his age. ‘We have town water and sewer out here, you know,’ he added.

  Bill Jackson was doing such a good job of selling his home that Bart wondered if his father was being honest about catching a bargain. He suspected he had offered him an amount well above the possible listing price.

  They walked back to go through the rear entrance and look at the land. The closest neighbor was at least an acre away. Much of the rear, even beyond what was part of the property, was untouched woods.

  ‘You’re close to everything, but you’ve got your privacy,’ Bill added. ‘Of course, the house has an up-to-date alarm system. No worries about that stuff. It’s as safe as the maternity ward in the hospital. I can’t deny being the sheriff’s had something to do with it,’ he added. ‘Not that we’ve had much in the way of burglaries.’

  They walked back through the house, looked at the guest bedrooms, the views from all the windows, and then stopped again in the living room with its step-down floor and big fieldstone fireplace and mantle. There was that bay window Bart’s father said his mother coveted. The whole room was to be coveted. Unlike most upstate New York homes, it had high ceilings, which made the living room look larger than it was.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for letting us come over at such short notice,’ Bart said.

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘I’ll tell my father to speak with you,’ he continued, feeling certain Victoria would agree.

  ‘Good. And best of luck to you both. I’m about to become a new groom, too.’

  ‘We heard. We wish you both health and happiness,’ Victoria told him.

  ‘Why is this guy so lucky?’ Bill Jackson replied, nodding at Bart.

  ‘We both feel lucky,’ Victoria told him as she took Bart’s hand.

  ‘Oh, to be young again,’ Bill Jackson said as he walked them out.

  ‘You’re not doing so bad,’ Bart said and Jackson laughed.

  Bart and Victoria said goodbye and got into Bart’s car. For a moment, they both just looked at the house.

  ‘It’s a real home,’ Bart said. ‘Of our own,’ he added. They waved again to Bill Jackson, who waved back.

  He stood there watching them drive off.

  ‘Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming,’ Victoria said as they continued to town where they would have lunch before Bart returned to work.

  ‘We should celebrate tonight,’ Bart said. ‘I’ll make a reservation at Spenser’s in Liberty for eight. I feel like splurging. And later, let’s talk about our honeymoon.’

  ‘I feel as if I’m already on it,’ Victoria said. She cuddled up beside him.

  They seemed to be floating into their future with nary a cloud or a drop of rain to spoil the bright world into which they were heading.

  Victoria’s mother was home first. She had little more than a half-day. Almost as soon as she entered the house, Victoria went into a full detailed description of the Jackson house. Helen Myers sat there in the kitchen listening, a small smile on her lips. It had been so long since she had seen her daughter so excited, so vibrant and alive.

  The air of exhilaration lingered and was still heavy when her father returned from work. She took off from the beginning of the description of the Jackson house again, this time sitting in the living room. He kept shaking his head and looking to Helen. He, too, was elated about Victoria’s resurrected joie de vivre.

  ‘We’re going to dinner tonight at Spenser’s to celebrate,’ she told them after she had exhausted every detail about the house that she could recall. ‘And later plan our honeymoon.’

  ‘That’s great, Vick. You deserve every second of happiness,’ her father said and hugged her. Her mother stood by, smiling, and as soon as her father released her, she held out her arms to hug her, too.

  When she went to her bedroom to get ready for her date, she got a new idea. She scooped up what she was going to wear, the dress she wore on their first date, along with the shoes, some sexy new panties and bra, as well as the pearl necklace Bart had bought her to celebrate their first week together
. He made it seem as if it had been more of an accomplishment for him than her. She put it all in a travel bag along with some makeup and her hairbrush.

  If she went there to dress, he wouldn’t have to come here and practically double-back to go to the restaurant in Liberty. Besides, she liked the idea of showering and dressing for a date at his place. It would give her the feeling of what it was going to be like very soon. They had spent evenings together right into the early-morning hours, but she had always come home. Tonight, she might not.

  Her parents looked up when she came out with her things.

  ‘It’s easier to leave from Bart’s place,’ she said before either could ask why she had her clothes in a carry bag.

  ‘You have all you need there?’ her mother asked, smiling with amusement.

  ‘Just about,’ she replied. She turned to leave and then looked back. ‘Oh, don’t wait up,’ she added. ‘I might not come home tonight.’

  Neither spoke. Neither had the heart to utter a single syllable that might diminish her joy. It wasn’t the Victorian age. Even men and women who were not officially engaged were living together with the promise of marriage on the horizon. However, there would still be a number of particularly jealous women to stir up gossip around that nowadays, Helen Myers thought, especially because it involved Victoria. She almost welcomed the opportunity to smother whoever dared.

  She looked at Lester to see what he was thinking. He just shook his head and smiled.

  Victoria was out the door and in her car driving off before they could say much about it to each other anyway. She thought it would be fun to surprise Bart, and when she arrived at his apartment, she parked her car off to the side just so he wouldn’t see it and know immediately that she was there. Then she went into his apartment, set her things down on his bed and thought about how she would wear her hair.

  Back at the town police station, Rob Luden went through his notes. He had been working this cold case all day, confident he would solve two at once. Forensics had told him that there was no evidence on either of the sledgehammers taken from the Hacker body shop, and the volunteers with the available patrolman had not come up with a discarded one on the property or along the road. Whoever had struck Marvin Hacker did not want to come forward with a claim of self-defense. However, since the killer hadn’t brought the sledgehammer, Rob was certain it was something impulsive, perhaps indeed in self-defense. He could have been someone simply afraid of what had happened, shocked and terrified he wouldn’t be able to explain it and avoid a charge of manslaughter, at minimum. Or he could have been someone who didn’t want to be connected in any way to Marvin Hacker.

  Rob thought he had the reason for that in his hands, his own notes after two follow-up interviews. Before he let Tony Gibson go, he had him list the names of some other boys who were friendly with the Hacker twins. Three had left the area, but two were still here, one working for the telephone company and the other working for town sanitation. When Lieutenant Marcus had interviewed them because they were seen at Sandburg Lake that night, their explanations of how long they had stayed, which was quite a bit past the assault on Victoria Myers, were substantiated. He didn’t follow up with them to challenge that. He was more interested in having two witnesses to confirm that Bart Stonefield was with the Hacker twins when they had left the lake. Both of these men confirmed it.

  He looked at his watch. It was time to confront Bart Stonefield. He called home to tell Becky he would be late for dinner.

  ‘I’m finishing up something important,’ was all he would tell her. She never pursued him about his work, which was something he really admired about her. He would have told her things if she asked, but she was cautious about his bringing what she once had called ‘the toilet bowl view of humanity’ into their home and lives. Sometimes she made him feel as if he was a CIA agent or something. When friends asked how she handled his stories, Rob piped up first and, smiling, said, ‘I could tell her, but I’d have to kill her soon after if I did.’

  He started out and paused at Lillian Brooke’s desk. She had just hung up from listening to a complaint and was shaking her head and mumbling to herself. She saw him standing there and pulled herself up into her habitual stiff posture.

  ‘They call here to complain about their water pressure,’ she said. ‘Too lazy to look up the telephone number for the water department.’

  ‘We were talking about the Victoria Myers case the other day and how she has rebounded and is getting married.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sure it will be quite a beautiful wedding.’

  ‘Do you know when?’

  ‘I wasn’t invited,’ she replied and then relaxed, ‘but I know people who were. It’s soon after Labor Day – the following weekend at the Olympic. Maybe you should read the social column in the local paper every week,’ she added. ‘Get to know the community better.’

  ‘You’re probably right. Thanks,’ he said and left quickly.

  He drove directly to the Stonefield dealership and went to the service department. It was a little after six. He could see they were closing down, one mechanic putting tools back into a kit, another washing up. The first mechanic turned to him as he walked farther into the bay areas.

  ‘Bart Stonefield?’ he said.

  ‘Just missed him,’ the mechanic replied. ‘Must have a hot date tonight. He skedaddled outta here like a man in love. Nearly bumped into the wall.’

  The other mechanic laughed.

  ‘Thanks,’ Rob said and returned to his car. A man in love, he thought. And then rethought his theory of Marvin’s death. Perhaps Bart Stonefield purposely had gone there to kill him after all. Perhaps now that he was in love with Victoria Myers and marrying her, he wanted revenge or thought he was dispensing justice long overdue.

  That was premeditated.

  That was first-degree murder, no matter what the motive.

  He drove faster.

  He pulled up beside Bart just as he had parked and turned off his engine. Bart knew who Rob Luden was even though they had never met. He had seen his picture in the paper and had seen him at public events. He got out slowly, feeling fear bring a numbness into his arms and legs.

  Luden stepped out of his car. ‘Mr Stonefield,’ he said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’d like to talk to you,’ Rob Luden said, coming around Bart’s car. He had his identification out. Bart looked at it and nodded.

  ‘Sure. I was just coming home. Shall we go inside?’ he said. His mind was spinning. What had he done wrong? Had someone seen him at Marvin’s shop? Was there someone in the house looking out the window when he drove in or drove away, someone who would recognize him in that fog? He couldn’t recall anyone on the road. There was that figure he saw at a distance at the lake, someone who probably saw him as well, but he wasn’t doing anything anyone could see that would tie him to Marvin Hacker.

  ‘Great,’ Rob said and followed him to the door. Rob nodded at him after he opened it, and then stepped back to let him in first.

  ‘Why don’t we sit in the living room,’ Bart said and led the way. ‘So, what’s this about?’ he asked, nodding at the sofa.

  Rob sat and Bart sat in the chair across from the sofa.

  ‘You know Marvin Hacker?’ Rob began. It was like building a house, laying the foundation. Good interrogations were designed so the person questioned was eventually led to the obvious conclusion, that way diminishing his or her resistance. They would see the futility of lying and either confess or, by demanding an attorney, reveal they had reason to worry.

  Bart felt the blood rising up his neck and into his face. He fought it back down. Whatever you do, he thought, don’t look guilty.

  ‘Sure. He was in my high school class. He and his brother Louis were friends of mine for a while. Louis was killed in Vietnam,’ he continued. ‘I don’t really see Marvin much.’ He forced a nice smile. ‘We don’t hang about in the same circles these days. What about him?’

  ‘He’s dead. Someone hit hi
m pretty damn hard with a short-handled sledgehammer – killed him in his body shop. We know that was probably the weapon because it’s missing, according to his assistant, Tony Gibson.’

  Bart’s mind spun again. Had Tony been there, somewhere unseen?

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Last night,’ Rob said.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I have good reason to believe that Marvin Hacker and his twin brother Louis assaulted and raped your fiancée, Victoria Myers, that summer night six years ago,’ Rob continued. He waited. Bart did not speak. He looked like someone waiting for the second shoe to drop, so Rob decided to drop it. ‘But I think that’s something you’ve always known.’

  ‘Why would you say that?’

  ‘You were with them that night. You didn’t participate in the assault,’ Rob added, ‘but you were in their vehicle.’

  ‘And you know this how?’

  ‘Witnesses who saw you with them when you were at the lake, when you and the Hacker twins left, which fits the time frame, and what Marvin Hacker eventually told Tony Gibson about that night.’

  ‘I was stoned out of my mind,’ Bart confessed. ‘I never even knew they had left the truck and gone into the woods.’

  ‘But you knew what they had done.’

  ‘Eventually.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell the policewoman investigating at the time or anyone else for that matter?’

  ‘I was afraid.’

  ‘Afraid that the Hacker brothers would say you were there?’

  ‘That and being stoned. People took that sort of thing more seriously back then. It would have devastated my parents, especially my mother.’

  Rob nodded. ‘Did you kill Marvin Hacker last night?’ he asked.

  ‘He couldn’t have,’ Victoria said, stepping out of the bedroom. She was wearing Bart’s robe. ‘He and I were together here all last night,’ she said.

  Her sudden appearance and comment knocked the legs out from beneath Rob Luden’s body of confidence. He was on the verge of solving the two crimes. The sight of her, the victim – the one person who should have come screaming out of that room – literally took his breath away for a moment. He felt his jaw drop.