Against the Law

by Jay Brandon

  ‘How do you—?’ Edward began, then looked where Linda was. Above the first floor of the house next door was a dormer window, with curtains hanging in the window.

  ‘You wait out here,’ Edward said. ‘Be my lookout.’

  Linda shook her head. ‘You wanted a woman’s eyes. Let me in, then you stay out here and be my lookout.’

  He refused that, so they ended up doing the stupidest thing. They stood at Valerie Linnett’s back door, Edward looking for wires or other signs of a security system. Finally he gave up, looked closely at Linda, who nodded, and he easily opened the lock with Amy’s lock picks.

  ‘You’re a natural,’ Linda said in a neutral tone.

  He opened the door quickly. There was no sound. That didn’t mean no alarm, but they felt momentarily reassured. Edward stepped inside. Linda closely followed. Closing and locking the door behind themselves, they stepped hurriedly through the kitchen. If Valerie had had anything to do with his killing, she would surely have gotten rid of the obvious signs of his presence long ago. She had never been a suspect; police had never asked to search her house, though at trial they’d mentioned her letting them in to see the view from her window.

  One door from the kitchen led to the living room. They took the other door that opened to a hallway. To the right seemed to be the master bedroom, if this house more or less matched Paul’s. Linda led the way that direction. Edward was trying to look at everything – photographs on the walls, the carpet runner over a hardwood floor – while listening intently for the sound of a car. Linda just hurried ahead, into the bedroom. Edward ran after her in as light-footed a way as he could manage. They hadn’t even checked the garage, for all they knew Valerie Linnett might be asleep in her bed after a late night.

  But the bedroom was empty, the bed neatly made. Former nurse. Hospital corners. Not only did Edward see no obvious sign of a man’s presence, he saw no indication that a person lived here. Not a hairbrush on the dresser, a book on the nightstand. It looked like a bedroom in a model home, except that realtors usually added a couple of personal touches. The bedspread was flowered, the curtains white and airy. The blades of the white ceiling fan looked dust-free.

  Linda was already at the closet. She emerged with a plaid robe that looked very much like a man’s.

  ‘Paul’s?’ she mouthed.

  Edward shrugged. The robe looked very generic. Valerie could claim it had been her father’s, or that she herself preferred men’s robes. Linda shook her head, indicating no other clue. She put the robe back and they stood looking at each other for a moment. There was one other place they had to look, but that didn’t mean they both needed to go up there. They stared at each other, having a silent debate, until Linda brushed past him and started toward the hall.

  ‘You stay down here, then,’ she said in a normal tone of voice. ‘I’ll go up, you can warn me if you hear something.’

  ‘Like hell.’

  But Linda wouldn’t be dissuaded. She was already in the hall, pulling the cord that lowered the attic stairs. They came down silently.

  ‘Well-oiled,’ Linda commented, and immediately started up the stairs. Her hips looked well-oiled for that matter, moving quickly. ‘I feel that stare,’ she said offhandedly.

  ‘What should I do about it, blush and look guilty?’

  While bantering he was hurrying up after her. They clambered out onto a painted wooden floor, cheap but effective. Linda started to say something else, then just sucked in her breath and stood silent.

  The attic was furnished: a desk, a plush chair over close to the window. Here were the personal touches missing from the bedroom below. A bookcase half-filled, with mostly what looked like novels, some self-help tomes, even a few children’s books – maybe beloved leftovers of Ms Linnett’s childhood.

  But Linda was staring across the room at the wall opposite the desk. It was paneled in a moderately dark, cheap-looking paneling. There were pictures hanging on the wall. It was easy to imagine the pictures removed, leaving only the bare hooks that had been on the wall behind Paul’s back, when he’d said earnestly into the camera that if he was found dead it was his wife who’d murdered him.

  Edward wheeled the desk chair over in front of that wall and did remove the pictures that were right behind it. And they were staring at the stage set for Paul’s DVD.

  ‘Perfect,’ Linda muttered. She snapped a picture with her phone.

  The scene made Edward remember the video, which he’d watched so many times. Paul had been drunk, Amy had said, and after that Edward could see it. He’d stammered a couple of times; he’d seemed the teeniest bit confused. For someone of Paul’s intellect, that was significant. But viewing the scene, picturing Valerie Linnett holding the camera, Edward remembered something else.

  Stammering didn’t just indicate drunkenness. Paul had been afraid. He’d risked letting his girlfriend, the one right next door, see that he was seeing his wife again. He must have put Valerie off with some explanation: that he was going over the divorce settlement with Amy, something like that. But in the explanation Paul had pissed off his girlfriend, who could sometimes be violent. And she knew how to handle a gun. She’d held one on Edward.

  ‘Look at these,’ Linda said, studying the pictures on the wall a few feet away. There were only a few, but they were good: Paul and Valerie at dinner, staring into the camera and holding hands and Paul and Valerie in a hotel room, in a selfie in which they were clearly changing clothes.

  ‘Wow,’ said Linda. ‘The frumpy old lady next door cleans up pretty good.’

  Because this was a very different-looking Valerie Linnett. Instead of her short gray hair she had long, luxuriant brown hair. Her eyes were lustrous. And they could see she’d lost weight in the time since Paul’s death, see it in her figure from a year ago, which was striking in the bra and panties she wore in the selfie. In that one she and Paul were both grinning drunkenly.

  ‘She said they’d stopped seeing each other,’ Linda said. ‘But that wasn’t necessarily so. They could come and go through their back gates and backyards and nobody would ever know.’

  Edward nodded. ‘Not just that. Maybe it was no coincidence Paul was living here in the first place. Valerie used to work in a hospital. Paul had hospital privileges. I’ll bet if we check—’

  Linda was jumping ahead of him. ‘So he left his marriage and moved in next door to his girlfriend so he’d have ready access to her but not have to admit to the affair. Because he didn’t want anything coming out that might hurt him in the divorce. Then he discovered he might be a hot commodity on the dating market. That took some juggling, all that dating he was doing on the sly. The girlfriend must have been getting suspicious, then seeing his wife appear at his house was the last straw.’

  ‘So he told her he didn’t love Amy, he hated her and feared her. Then made that DVD to appease his jealous girlfriend.’

  Linda had continued to take pictures with her phone, moving across the room to put it all in context. Her path had taken her to the window.

  Suddenly she said, ‘Shit. Edward.’

  ‘She’s here?’

  ‘Looks like she’s just been to the grocery store or something. Quick, let’s—’

  Edward jumped to the head of the attic stairs. He reached down; looking for a handhold to pull the stairs up, but that couldn’t be done from up here. The stairs were more like a ladder that folded in half to rise into the ceiling. That folding could only be done from below.

  There was no choice. He couldn’t bluff his way out of this. Edward rushed down the ladder, moving as quietly as he could. He looked back up for Linda, but she didn’t appear.

  Then he heard the back door open.

  Edward folded the ladder and pushed it up on its springs. Thank God for its good oiling. The ladder folded smoothly away and back up into its hiding place.

  Leaving Edward standing exposed and Linda trapped above. He started backing away, toward the living room, hoping he could go out the front door whi
le Ms Linnett was coming in the back.

  There was a small sound behind him. Edward turned. Valerie Linnett was staring at him. She’d circled around.

  ‘What the hell?’

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said quickly, moving toward her. She stepped back.

  Edward pressed his small advantage. ‘My investigator is on his way here. We need an explanation about something.’

  ‘What are you doing in here? How did you get in my house?’

  Edward waved away the question with a gesture. He was still moving toward her, hoping just to get close enough that he could dart past her to the front door. He fell back on the only tool he had, a lawyer’s weapon: his tongue.

  ‘I was going to wait on your front porch, but it’s cold, so I tried the knob and it was unlocked. You should be more careful. I’m pretty sure your neighbor across the street saw me come in. I just got here. Listen, you know my sister got convicted, right? Well, you said something at trial we need to talk about. You said you thought Paul might have brought another couple of women to his house without anyone noticing. What made you—?’

  ‘What the hell do you want here?’ Valerie Linnett wasn’t buying his act. Her eyes were sharp as they glared at him. She clutched her purse against her side as if trying to strangle it and Edward knew the purse was a stand-in for him. Involuntarily, he took a step back.

  ‘You didn’t come here to talk and I don’t leave my door unlocked. Ever. You broke in. Looking for what?’

  Edward tried to look innocent. That hadn’t worked for him in how long? ‘What would I be looking for? No, I came to talk to you. My investigator …’

  Valerie shot a look over his head, in the direction of the attic access. For just a second, Edward’s gaze followed hers. When he looked back down she was staring at him again. Her eyes had narrowed and hardened even further. She didn’t accuse him, so he had no opportunity to deny anything. Valerie knew. Anger made her look older. Wrinkles creased her forehead and aimed arrows at her eyes. Edward could sense the front door behind him. He could turn now and there was nothing she could do to stop his escape. Maybe she’d follow him. He still had to figure out a way to rescue Linda. Maybe she’d …

  Valerie reached into her purse, then let it fall to the ground, leaving only her hand holding the pistol. It was a semi-automatic like Paul’s, elegantly silver, but no lady’s gun. When she pointed the bore at him it looked big enough to blow half his chest away. Edward lifted his hands.

  ‘Listen—’

  She shook her head. ‘No more listening. You’re a Goddamned burglar. You broke into my house. I know the law. I’m within my rights to—’

  ‘I’m going to turn and run to the front door now. You’ll have to shoot me in the back. It will look like murder.’

  ‘Good. That makes my story that I didn’t know who you were look more plausible. Goodbye.’

  But she didn’t fire. Edward was now sure that she’d shot Paul, but that had been the result of careful planning and timing – Paul probably hadn’t seen her as he turned toward her. Shooting a man while looking him in the face was a different proposition. Valerie was still going over her story in her mind, wanting to make sure she had it right. Spontaneous murder was harder.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what you found,’ Valerie said slowly. ‘You won’t be around to tell anyone.’

  Then they heard noises. Not just one sound, a series of thuds from over their heads. Valerie involuntarily looked up.

  That was Edward’s chance, but he wasn’t an action hero. He too looked upward. When their eyes both lowered, they were looking at each other with different expressions. To her questioning look Edward nodded knowingly.

  ‘Who—?’ Valerie began, then her nostrils flared again. ‘It’s your damned sister up there, isn’t it? It’s not enough she – She has to break into my house too? God damn you both, I’ll—’ She suddenly turned the gun upward and fired through her ceiling.

  Edward shrieked. Just screeched, like a banshee. This crazy bitch was willing to take the chance of shooting anyone who was up there. But it wasn’t just anyone, it was Linda. Edward dove toward Valerie Linnett and before she could lower the pistol’s barrel again he was on her, knocking her back, scrabbling at her hands. As they went down his head butted her chin.

  He heard her say, ‘Oof,’ then a bigger noise of air being expelled as they hit the ground, Valerie underneath him. He also heard the sound of the handgun firing again. Only once, before the back of her head hit the hardwood floor and the gun dropped nervelessly from her hand – he vaguely heard it clatter.

  For just a moment he lay there on top of her. It was weirdly intimate. They could have been lovers, locked in a passionate embrace or snuggling in the aftermath. The woman was clearly unconscious, but that could have been the result of great lovemaking too, instead of hitting the back of her head on the floor.

  Edward stood up, slipping on something. Valerie lay there helpless, but the gun was close by her hand, reminding him that she had tried to shoot the woman he loved. He wanted to kick her in the head, just for good measure.

  When he pulled back his right leg, though, he realized he had no strength in his other leg. It crumpled under him. On the floor, he realized why he had slipped a minute ago. There was a streak of blood underfoot.

  Edward saved his strength to head toward the attic access, but he didn’t make it. The blood, he realized now, was streaming down his leg. Just as he understood this, he heard another, louder thump, this time from outside. He turned to see Linda scramble to her feet out there. A moment later she was peering in one of the front windows, holding up her phone like a weapon. She cupped her hands around her eyes to block the glare, then those eyes widened. As she darted from the window, Edward started in that direction, then slipped again. This time he fell.

  Linda was holding him then, raising his head, crying. Edward just stared up at her.

  ‘You have beautiful eyes,’ he said.

  She lowered him gently and he felt her unfastening his belt. Beginning to slip away, he thought, She wants to make love now? Here?

  ‘I’ll give it a try,’ he said aloud. ‘But I—’

  Then he was gone.

  TWENTY-THREE

  He woke alone, in white light. Edward felt light-headed. Light-bodied, too, in fact. He lifted his hand and saw that it was white too, pale as paper, emerging from a white sleeve.

  ‘Shit,’ he said.

  He was dead, just when he’d finally had a plan. He’d known just what to do to fix everything. But he hadn’t told anyone, so he’d taken that secret to the grave. Maybe someone else would figure it out. But he’d also wanted to tell Linda his revelation about her. About them. He hoped more than anything that she would figure that out.

  At least he seemed to be in Heaven. He must have done more good in his life than he could remember. Then he realized the first word he’d said in Heaven was ‘shit.’

  The light diminished somewhat as if he was being sent to the other place. Edward turned his head and saw a burly black man in green scrubs closing the blinds at the window. The room remained pretty bright, but now it was obviously a hospital room. Edward had just been momentarily sunlight-addled as the room glowed with light just as he’d opened his eyes.

  ‘Not people’s usual reaction when they find out they’re alive,’ the nurse or doctor or orderly at the window said of Edward’s first word. ‘You got a lot of debts or something?’

  He smiled. Edward shook his head, then reconsidered.

  ‘Maybe. Yes.’

  He heard the door open, and Linda entered from the hallway carrying a pink plastic pitcher.

  ‘Ah,’ she said when she saw he was awake. ‘Here, water.’

  ‘Here’s your chance to thank the woman who saved your life,’ the man at the window said. Edward decided he was a doctor. ‘If she hadn’t stopped the blood flow with your belt, you would have bled out before the EMS got there.’

  ‘Oh. I thought she was just trying to get me n
aked one last time before I went.’

  ‘Idiot,’ Linda said, shaking her head. But she was smiling.

  The man came over and looked at the readings on the instruments that were connected to Edward. He nodded his head gravely. ‘You’ll be OK. Just don’t go jogging for a while and eat a lot of red meat.’

  ‘Wow. Medical advice I’ve always wanted.’ Edward reached for Linda’s hand. She came closer, still smiling.

  ‘Well,’ the man said, looking at the joined hands. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Edward said. When he was gone Edward and Linda started talking at the same time, but Edward prevailed.

  ‘I realized something when that crazy woman shot up into the ceiling. You were up there and I had to stop her. I wanted to kill her, because you’re the most important person in the world to me. I love you, Linda.’

  She just looked at him for a while. She really looked beautiful this morning, her pale skin accented by full red lips and long, dark eyelashes.

  Finally she said, ‘You don’t have to say that.’

  ‘I do, because it’s true and I hadn’t said it and somebody might try to shoot me again any minute before I get another chance.’

  He tugged gently at her hand and she bent over and kissed him. ‘How about getting in here with me?’ he whispered.

  ‘The doctor said you should take it easy for a while.’

  ‘He only specified jogging. But I just want to hold you.’

  Carefully, she lay on the bed full length next to him, their heads close.

  After quite a while, Edward said, ‘It sounded to me like he said I can get out of here now.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s what he said. You need to rest.’

  ‘No rest for the weary. I’ve got some heavy blackmailing to do.’

  Edward’s plan had several steps to it, as the best ones do. Some people say the simplest plans are the best but, in his experience, simple plans didn’t take care of enough problems or look far enough ahead. Simple plans like, say, breaking into a court reporter’s office and taking some of the cocaine she had stored away. That plan should have had way more steps to it.