The Original Alibi (Matt Kile) by David Bishop Page B

looked unsure what that was. Mackie explained. “It’s a Southern name for iced tea sweetened.”
    “Yes, please,” Hillie said. Axel nodded. Mackie left.
    “Mackie has hard hands, but a big soft smile,” Hillie said. “He seems to be a friendly man.”
    Axel smiled and nodded. “Okay, Hillie,” he said. “Our food won’t be here for about ten to fifteen minutes. We can get a good start on the game.” They set up the pieces and Axel put one pawn of each color in each of his hands while he held them below the table.
    Before Hillie picked one to start their game, she asked, “Is there anything you want to say to me before we start our game?”
    “You wear way too much eye makeup. It cheapens you and you’re too pretty to do that to your eyes.” Hillie said nothing, just pointed toward Axel’s right hand. He opened it to reveal a white pawn. She moved the center piece from her front line forward one space to start the game.
    After eight or ten moves apiece, Mackie brought their food. He looked at the board and smiled. “I see you got yourself in a real match, Axel. I think the little lady has an edge at the moment.”
    “Whatdaya know, Mack? Get out of here and leave us alone.” When he left, Axel turned to Hillie. “While we eat, I want your life history. Where you were born. A fair bit about each of your parents and brothers and sisters. Then why you dropped out of school. Not the reason you told your friends back home, but the reason you kept to yourself. Why you ran away. I figure you’re what, seventeen, eighteen?” She nodded when Axel said eighteen. “You got through the eleventh grade maybe?” She nodded again. “You’re no dummy, that’s obvious. So I want the why. Remember our agreement.” Hillie nodded. “Okay, let’s have it. Pull no punches. Tell it straight.”

Chapter 8
    By late afternoon, I was knocking on General Whittaker’s front door. Charles opened it and led me into the study. On the way, I glanced up the stairwell. Karen Whittaker was neither favoring the banister nor me. When I entered, the general was watching one of his family VCRs. He pointed out his son, Ben, who had died in the engagement known as Desert Storm, and Eddie as a small boy. He used the remote to turn it off, put the tape back in its container and that onto the shelf.
    “Well, you didn’t come to watch an old man wallowing in family pictures. Do you have a report for me?”
    “General. I lost a good part of today learning a big piece of this story that you didn’t bother to tell me. The witnesses against Eddie were paid, so it figures his alibi was also bought. For the alibi, I figure you were the buyer. Wasting my time hurts both of us.”
    “Sit down. I see you didn’t wear a tie today. I like the look.”
    “Folksy doesn’t fit you, General. Why didn’t you tell me that you paid someone to get Eddie released?”
    “Well, Mr. Kile. You are a resourceful man. The police never learned what you have in the first day.”
    “Whom did you pay? How much? Why?”
    “The why is easy. Eddie’s innocent.”
    “That dog don’t hunt, General. To some degree you’re questioning his innocence or I wouldn’t be here. So, why am I here?”
    “Like I told you. I’m coming to the end of my time. I need to know, absolutely know. I always have believed him innocent and nothing has happened to change that belief. But I don’t want to meet my maker while I’m still pushing away any doubt at all.”
    “Okay, that’s why, but what about whom?” I repeated, “And how much?”
    “The who, I don’t know. How much, two million.”
    “Before or after Eddie was released?”
    “After. I refused to pay until she—”
    “She?”
    “It was a woman who called me to make the offer and arrange the payoff drop. On some level, the voice seemed familiar. I keep rerunning that voice in my mind, but I’ve never been able to place it. It stays just beyond reach.”
    “Okay. You were saying?”
    “I refused to pay