The Final Alibi Read online

  “Were you serious about talking to Clancy again?” she asked as she sipped a glass of water. I nodded.

  “Definitely. I think there is a little more to it than what Clancy was letting on. And if there isn’t, then I’m sure he’ll know something about our friend Julius.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  “Oh, I believe what he told us was somewhat truthful, but I have no doubt that he was holding back.”

  “Somewhat?” she asked as she lit a cigarette.

  “Aha, somewhat.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me, Doctor Lawson?”

  “I think he’s hiding something.” I lowered my voice. Knowing that the good doctor was a customer from this establishment, I wasn’t sure just how good a customer he was.

  “What do you think he’s hiding?”

  “That I don’t know yet, but I do know that there is more to his story than he’s letting on.”

  “How do you know? Did I miss something?” She lent in a little closer, noticing my lowered voice.

  “Because unless they were trying to cover something up, why would they call the chief on us? We weren’t doing anything outside of our normal enquiries, yet the way Thomas came running up that hallway, was as if he really wanted us out of there.” Realization dawned on Steph’s face as she became aware of the sequence of events at the prison.

  “I see where you’re headed. That’s so true, he really did want us out of there.” I nodded. I was thinking back to when I had looked through the window in the door. Trying to place what had caught my attention. “Jim? You OK?”

  “Yeah, just trying to remember something, but it’s gone.” She nodded, but I could tell she doubted me.

  “Probably too late now, but did you want to see Clancy tomorrow morning?”

  “Does he work on a Saturday morning?” I asked.

  “He mows one section of the school lawn every Saturday morning. If nothing else, he is punctual to his own schedule according to my friend June Trapnell.”

  “Sure. Any plans for tonight?”

  “Nah. Think once the little munchkin is asleep, will soak in a nice hot tub then get an early night if I can. I’ll have plenty of reading material whilst soaking,” she said with a smile. The boxes we had been given at the prison still needed well over half its contents to be perused, although now, knowing the prison hierarchy were against us, doubted whether the material would reveal anything useful. Our work would certainly be cut out for us when it came to that place.

  3.

  Once we had our late lunch finished, Steph dropped me back to the hotel and I watched her drive off. As I was standing there, a man walked past, looked at me, then turned back.

  “You’re James Lawson, aren’t you?” he said. I looked at him and nodded.

  “Yes, I am,” I replied, holding my hand out. “And you are?”

  “Richard Lovett. I’ve read your books.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lovett. Have I heard your name before?” I didn’t place it at first.

  “I’m representing Harry Lightman.” He spoke it almost nonchalant, as if he already had his client’s innocence proven.

  “And how is your client doing?”

  “Should be out any day now, I think.” He shuffled his fingers around in his pocket then pulled a bit of paper out of it. “Could I get an autograph? For my-” but I was already walking past him.

  “Not today, sorry,” I muttered at him. When I looked behind me as I entered the door, he had already crossed the street, heading towards the shops.

  As I walked through the hotel’s foyer, I saw Tami cleaning a table in the bistro. She flashed me a wink as I walked by, heading for the stairs. I smiled, a shot of warmth running up my spine. As I climbed the stairs, a man in a business suit was descending the steps. He threw me a glance as I passed him, grinned, then continued walking. As I rounded the corner, I saw a tall woman standing just inside a door, wearing nothing but a bra, French knickers and suspender belt. She smiled at me as I walked past, then closed the door. I had a feeling that the woman was not the man’s wife.

  When I got to my room, I threw my jacket on the bed and headed for the bathroom. Lunch was certainly making itself known, demanding I make some room for it. As any man does, I grabbed the newspaper I had bought with my lunch and happily obliged.

  4.

  Not realizing I had even fallen asleep, the knock on the door woke me with such a jolt that I nearly rolled right off the bed. I was still reading the paper by the time nature had finished its call and had lain face down on the bed, the paper resting beneath me. I must have dozed off during the interesting article I was reading about the nuclear threat that had been steadily increasing between the United States and the USSR. It was scary reading, the reporter making some damning revelations such as just how powerful nuclear weapons were compared to the atomic bombs dropped on Japan a few years ago. The dangers the fallout of these weapons posed seemed to indicate that should the two superpowers actually engage in a conflict, all life in this world would almost surely perish. It was not a happy bedtime story and had somehow, despite the horrors it was spreading, sent me off into a deep sleep.

  Once I managed to pull myself out of the nap and rediscover the land of the living, I pulled myself out of bed and went to the door. I opened it and flinched a second time as the door was pushed open with such force that it nearly sent me reeling. My hand came up defensively, shielding my face from a nasty smack when arms flung around my neck and soft lips settled on my own. With shock, I initially tried to pull back, but the pattering of kisses was so adamant, that as I realised who the soft lips belonged to, was unable to resist them. Tami walked into the room, kicked the door shut with her shoe heel and willed me to the bed, her gentle lips and minty breath urging me backwards.

  The back of my legs struck the bed and we fell backwards onto it, Tami hanging onto me with her thighs as we did. She was slowly opening and closing her eyes, almost as if to confirm I was still there. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anywhere else I would rather be. She smelled amazingly sweet, like candied almonds, or raspberry jelly. I wanted to lap her up. Her touch was gentle yet urging, willing me to take my clothes off and take hers with it. We were naked in what seemed like a whirlwind of kisses and fondling, the tingling of excitement feeling electric. And as I entered her for the first time, listening to the moan of her desire, feeling her fingernails gently find grip in my back, her own back arching up to meet me, I took us to a place of such an intense pleasure few people are able to reach. Our climaxes came almost simultaneous, her moans erupting a short moment before the sound of her peak bringing me to mine. It felt so incredibly deep, her hotness engulfing me, clinging to me, refusing to let go.

  I had wanted to be with Tami for as long as I could remember. And as I lay there, holding her closer than I ever had before, the woman I had loved for 20 years, was finally laying exactly where she belonged. And for the first time in forever, the smile on my face felt real.

  It was a night of passion that I had never imagined in my wildest dreams. At some point in the middle of the night, I was woken to the feeling of inquisitive fingers gently probing around in my boxers. She had already primed me for another go and when Tami climbed on top of me, her own excitement allowed me to enter with incredible ease. She felt like satin, her pace quickening with a steady low moaning, my own excitement building to the sound of her. When it was finished in a detonation of tingling that seemed to go on and on forever, she rolled off and lay beside me, her head resting on my chest. I held her tight, one arm around her neck, gently rubbing the top of one buttock. It felt so incredibly erotic for me, I cannot explain just how intense it was. But when I saw a familiar scar on the top part of her arm, a near perfect hole of missing flesh, reality snapped me back to the present.

  5.

  When I awoke the next morning, I first wondered whether it had all been some intense fantasy that I finally dreamt about with such a virtual clarity.
The bed lay empty beside me, no evidence Tami had ever been in my room. But at almost the same moment I was about to get up and make sure it hadn’t been a dream after all, the door to my room opened and Tami came in, carrying a breakfast platter, complete with newspaper, and set it on the bed before me. Her smile was almost as long as her incredible legs. She leant in, kissed me and asked how I slept.

  “Sleep was OK,” I said, then pulled her on top of me and said, “but the dreams were amazing.” I began to kiss her, undress her and pull her back into bed. A few moments later, our passion peaked a third time and the beginning of a new day had never been better.

  6.

  Tami left around 7, flashing me an incredibly cheeky smile as she closed the door. I felt something that I hadn’t felt in such a long time. I don’t know whether it was love, maybe something between incredibly powerful like and lust. I had been attracted to her for years, that had never been a secret, but finally having her the way I had her that morning and the previous night, was something close to fulfilling an incredible longing that had been building over time. Last night, I finally fulfilled the longing. I wanted her, not just for the act of love but more. I wanted to listen to her, learn her emotions, her feelings, her joys. Understand her passions, her hobbies, things she loved to do and the things she loathed. Right there, at that moment, it was like I ached to know my best friend, and yet I knew hardly anything about her. We had shared such a powerful nightmare together, tried to build a life afterwards but failed. I was lying on my back, one arm behind my head just staring at the ceiling, thoughts running through my head, thoughts of times long past.

  7.

  The recollections of that night, the one that saw the demise of a monster, came flooding back once I opened the gate, the memories dancing in my mind. I remember the flashing red lights of the approaching patrol car, the moist air that hung heavy over the paddock, the crunch of bone as boot connected with Lightman’s nose, the groan of trepidation coming from the man lying before me. I remember hearing the girl sobbing as her father carried her into the house, the distant siren of the approaching ambulance. Once Lightman was sitting in the back of a patrol car, an officer flanking him on either side, I headed to the main house to check on Tami. She was the only person I knew of that had survived the Devil, and she was hurt.

  She was lying on a sofa, a tea towel held over the wound on her arm, blood already seeping through it. Joe Kennedy was kneeling beside his daughter, holding the towel as tightly as he could, weeping softly, tears falling onto the sofa cushion below him. Tami had her eyes closed, but I could tell she was conscious, a low groaning conveying her pain. She also had a steady stream of tears running down her cheeks. She held her father’s hand in a vice-like grip, the whites of her knuckles bulging. I could only stand by and watch as they tried to comfort each other, her nightmare almost unimaginable.

  When the ambulance arrived, the two officers placed Tami on a stretcher and wheeled her to their car. They slid her into the back, her father never leaving her side, nor letting go of his little girl’s hand. I asked if it would be OK to ride in the car with them and was given the nod. Chief Rademeyer arrived at that moment, grabbing my hand and pumping it up and down with much enthusiasm. He gave me a clap on the back as I climbed into the passenger seat of the ambulance and told me he would ensure I received ‘a god-damn medal’.

  Tami was admitted to Daylesford Hospital and spent 10 days recuperating. Her wound healed although she would carry the scar for the rest of her life. I stayed with her and her father the first night and all of the next day. The rest of the week, I would visit regularly and Joe would ask me to sit with her when he needed to run errands himself. It was during those times that Tami and I would sit and talk. She would tell me about her dreams, her ambitions, her goals. Places she wanted to visit, like Paris, London and of course Rome. She was a girl with so much ambition and a huge amount of passion. She loved drawing, and as I discovered during those days, had the talent of someone that could sketch unbelievable life-like pictures. One of the drawings that I still cherish to this day, was one she had drawn of me after I nodded off in the chair one morning. I had finished working a night shift and visited her as soon as I left the station. My eyes were so heavy and after an hour of listening to her, fell asleep while Tami had gone to the bathroom. When I awoke a couple of hours later, she had managed to create a near photographic pencil drawing of me. That drawing is framed and hanging above my fireplace as I write this.

  Eventually, Tami was released from the hospital, her father picking her up, one arm still bandaged. I helped them with her suitcase, carrying it for her as her father wheeled the chair outside. Joe thanked me for my help then drove his daughter home, Tami flashing me her gorgeous smile through the car window as they headed off.

  In the following weeks, I would often visit the Kennedy farm, more so during the subsequent trial. It wasn’t easy for her to give evidence, but she pooled all the strength that she could muster together, and like an Anzac at Gallipoli, charged head first into helping the prosecutor find Lucifer guilty of all charges.

  When the trial was over, Lightman finally sitting in a cell he would now call home, and the fanfare in the media diminished, life went pretty much back to normal for everyone. For Tami and I, we discovered our mutual interest in ancient cultures, primarily ancient Rome, and would spend hours going to the library, reading books, and discovering anything we could get our hands on. Joe Kennedy didn’t seem to mind my constant visits, even offering me a back bedroom after a couple of particularly late nights of card games the three of us had played. He had taught Tami the art of Poker, Euchre and Bridge at an early age and often played together. I enjoyed playing with them, sometimes staying till late into the night or early morning.

  Then, one night as we stood at the kitchen sink, washing the dinner dishes together while her father sat on the front porch smoking his pipe, Tami had lent in and kissed me. The kiss had been flirting in the air between us for weeks, but my shyness kept me from acting on it, while Tami pushed hers aside. It was such a romantic moment for me. I know, standing at a kitchen sink holding a tea towel may not sound like the ideal spot for a first kiss, but for me feeling her lips on mine at that moment, we could have been standing in the middle of a shit-storm and it wouldn’t have mattered. When Tami’s lips touched mine, the world of the living ceased to exist, time seemingly halted. I reached one hand out and touched her cheek as our lips danced together, gently caressing the side of her face, her tongue gently teasing mine. When it was finished, she pulled back a little and looked into my eyes, and into my soul. The passion and infatuation that came over me at that moment, has never left me in all the years since, nor has it abated a single ounce, if anything, having manifested itself further with each passing day.

  Our relationship continued to grow from that moment, with Tami sometimes staying at my own home. Joe never interfered in our relationship, supporting us from the onset. At the time, it never occurred to me that our lines of communication were guarded, me holding back from completely opening up about my feelings about the horror that I saw, and Tami with the horror she actually endured. It was like we were both hiding our secrets in plain sight whilst gingerly dancing around them. We had a lot in common and it was those things that kept us strong, kept us going. But like anything, eventually the momentum grinds to a halt and for Tami and I, when conversation is limited to the fun things you share and none of the important things, conversation eventually dries up.

  Our time spent together became more and more strained as we drifted further apart. Her smile began to dim and sometimes, when she did come and stay, she would fall asleep on the couch after I had gone to bed. We were intimate a few times, but the actual act? She was genuinely frightened, still healing from her event, and thus we never actually had sex.

  As the days and weeks passed, Tami and I began to see less and less of each other. Neither of us, as far as I knew, saw anybody else. I remember sitting on her father’s porch one
night, Joe still working at the shop, wanting to talk about our future. I don’t know whether it was my words or her misunderstanding, or a little of both. But it had ended up sinking into a tearful shouting match that neither of us understood. I ended up telling her of my plans to travel and she didn’t want to come with me. She had simply told me to go and see what happens. I left the following week, and even though we began to write letters to each other, even they dried up after several months.

  I knew I still had strong feelings for Tami, but at the time, didn’t know how to act on them. In the end, I bottled them up, stored them on the back shelf of my heart, and left them there, ready and waiting for when I would once again have the strength to open them.

  8.

  “Jim?” It was Steph’s voice that snapped me from my daydream, a gentle knocking accompanying her near whisper. “Jim? You awake?” I jumped out of bed and half walked, half staggered as I pulled on my pants and shuffled to the door. I opened it to find her standing in the hallway in her police uniform. She looked ready for official business.

  “Give me a quick minute to shower? Oh, and one guess who I met yesterday?” She looked at me, puzzled. “Richard Lovett. You know, the lawyer?” Realization dawned across her face.

  “What did he want?”

  “An autograph,” I said. Her look amused me and I giggled a little. “No, I didn’t give him one. Five minutes?” I said, standing in the doorway to my bathroom.

  “Sure. I’ll be down in the bistro,” she said and headed back down the hall.

  I caught up with Steph about twenty minutes later, feeling clean and refreshed. She was sitting alone at a table, sipping a coffee and reading a newspaper. She smiled when she saw me, put her cup down and stood.

  “Ready?” I asked and we walked out. Tami was at the counter and winked at me as I walked past. I felt a tingle, remembering the way I had seen her less than an hour before.

  As we jumped into Steph’s car, I asked, “Off to Clancy?” but she shook her head.