I Am Quinn

by McGarvey Black

  Over that weekend, on Saturday afternoon, they found Quinn Roberts’ body.

  For a fleeting moment, it crossed Alison’s mind that she and Alec had spent more time together the week Quinn died than any other week of their relationship. She brushed the dark thoughts away because she intended to marry Alec Roberts. She was in love with him and convinced herself he had nothing to do with it. After all, she was with him the whole week. Still, she wrote everything down on her calendar so she wouldn’t forget the timeline. It’s the kind of person she was, just in case, anyone ever asked.

  Part V

  After My Murder

  Chapter 59

  They had planned to make dinner and watch a movie on Netflix, but when Alison pulled up in front of Alec’s house after a trip to the supermarket, a police car was in the driveway. When she opened the front door, Alec was seated on the couch with his head in his hands. Two police officers stood across from him.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Who is this, Mr. Roberts?’ said one police officer.

  Alec looked up with tears running down his face.

  ‘She’s my girlfriend, Ali Moore,’ he said.

  ‘Alec, what’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s Quinn,’ he said. ‘She’s dead.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Alison said, sitting down next to him. ‘I’m so sorry. You said she was very depressed.’

  There was a long pause before anyone spoke.

  ‘Ali, Quinn was murdered,’ Alec whispered.

  Murdered? Every nuance and detail of the past few months flashed through Alison’s mind. Alec now had to go with the police officers to Newbridge to identify Quinn’s body and provide some information.

  ‘Call my parents,’ he said as he got his jacket. ‘Tell them what’s happened. We’ll figure out how to tell the kids when I get back.’

  Five hours later, Alec returned, and they devised a plan. His parents would drive over to SUNY Geneseo to tell Hannah and bring her home while Alec and Alison went to Jack’s school to get him. After the initial shock and disbelief, Jack sobbed softly in the back seat, barely speaking on the drive home except for a brief bit of anger directed at his father. Nobody talked much in the car. His mother was gone, and nothing was going to make it better except for time and not enough of that had passed.

  Alec decided to make the service a one-day affair rather than two; a morning wake followed by a burial at the cemetery.

  ‘I want this over as quickly as possible,’ he said to Alison when they were alone. ‘It’s better for the kids.’

  For a fleeting second, Alison wondered if Alec wanted only a single day to save money. She pushed the thought out of her head and felt guilty for thinking it.

  That night, people gathered at Alec’s parents’ house; friends of the kids and neighbors from Avon streamed through the front door. Alec and Alison decided she should not attend the wake or the burial as it might be painful for Quinn’s family to see their daughter’s husband with his girlfriend.

  ‘It seemed like the whole town of Avon showed up today,’ Alec said the night after the funeral. ‘I didn’t think she knew that many people. I guess a lot of them were friends of the kids with their parents. Still, it was impressive.’

  ‘The kids told me she did a lot of volunteering,’ Ali said.

  ‘I guess,’ said Alec. ‘Now that it’s done, the cops will be all over my ass.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They always go after the husband. You wait and see, they’re going to try and pin this on me. They were just waiting for the funeral to be over,’ he said. ‘Fortunately, I have you, my little alibi. You’re my Ali-bi. Get it? Ali-bi,’ he laughed.

  Given the gravity of what had happened Alison didn’t find it humorous and didn’t laugh.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he said, punching her softly on the arm. ‘You don’t think that’s funny? Lighten up.’

  ‘Alec, your wife was just murdered,’ she said. ‘So no, I don’t think that’s funny.’

  ‘You were with me every night for the past week. During the days I was teaching class, and at night I was with you,’ he said. ‘It’s airtight. They can’t pin her murder on me. So, you’re my Ali-bi.’

  ‘You did plan something for us every single night last week,’ said Alison, realising the coincidence for the first time. ‘We normally only get together on weekends. That was lucky.’

  ‘Good thing too,’ he said. ‘Those freaking cops tried to play mind games with me when I went in to talk to them. I played them, not the other way around. I thought they were going to lose their shit when I gave them my DNA.’

  Little seeds of doubt crept into Alison’s head after she learned of Quinn’s murder. It was hard not letting her mind go to the crazy dark places. If he had given his DNA, she reasoned, he had to be innocent. Soon Alec would be cleared, and they could put this awful business behind them.

  The next day, plans changed. Alec hired a criminal lawyer.

  ‘My attorney told me not to take the lie detector test,’ Alec said when Alison asked what day he was doing the polygraph. ‘I don’t know anything about Quinn’s murder. The cops want to nail me for it, and I’m not going to help them crucify me.’

  Two weeks later, Jack and Hannah returned to their respective schools and Alec and Alison tried to get things back to normal. Their relationship never gelled again. When Quinn died, everything changed, and Alison didn’t know how to fix it.

  Alec started drinking heavily after the murder. When he drank, he got nasty and said terrible things.

  ‘At least I don’t have to pay that bloodsucker alimony now,’ he said to her one day a few weeks later, ‘so there is a silver lining after all.’

  Alison hated it when he said stuff that revealed an ugly dimension to his character. One she didn’t like. She hung in with him for another six months, but then she wanted out of the relationship. She hated bailing on Hannah and Jack, but Alec wasn’t the guy she had thought he was. He had become toxic and mean, and she still had unanswered questions about his wife’s murder. And then there was the blackout thing. Alison wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but she thought it was possible she might have been drugged by her boyfriend – more than once. She could never be sure because there were a few times when she just couldn’t remember what happened. Alec had told her she had had too much to drink but she wasn’t entirely sure she believed him. Now after everything that happened, she just wanted out.

  Chapter 60

  QUINN

  The worst part of dying was knowing my kids were in pain and I couldn’t comfort them or help them through it.

  My son acted tough, but he was so vulnerable. From the time he was a baby he reminded me of Alec. He’d be playing cheerfully and then something tiny would upset him and he’d lose it, just like his father did. Once when Jack was only three or four, he was trying to put together a wooden jigsaw puzzle. I was nearby ironing and looked over at him. Sitting on the floor frozen, he held up one of the pieces and stared into space with an anxious and angry look on his face.

  ‘What’s wrong, honey?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothing. You shut up,’ he screamed, throwing the puzzle piece across the room at me and running out of the room.

  His outbursts took me by surprise, but I kind of knew this beast. Alec was the same way. Whenever my husband got stressed out, even over something small, he’d lose it. No warning. From zero to ten in three seconds, it made my head spin. Over the years, I learned how to handle my son. He was difficult but he was still my kid and I loved him, warts and all.

  Hannah, on the other hand, was easy-peasy. She was always drawing pictures of flowers and rainbows and telling me she loved me. She had a sweet disposition but was also surprisingly funny and witty. I used to laugh to myself when she’d outfox her father or sidestep one of Alec’s many life lectures. Most of the time he never realized it when she put one over on him. Probably because he was convinced he was always
the smartest guy in the room. Breaking news, Alec; you weren’t.

  It was easy to love Hannah, easier than her brother. I loved my son, but it took a lot more effort on my part. If Alec had been a little gentler with him, Jack might be a happier, more secure young man. There was a sense of sadness about my son that he couldn’t shake. Maybe he got that from me and my crappy genes.

  Chapter 61

  After months of trying to get Jack Roberts to talk to them, he had finally agreed to come in. McQuillan got to work early that day because the Chief wanted a recap of their current highest profile murder investigation, Quinn Roberts. Before they could see the Chief, McQ and Crews went over their notes to make sure they were on the same page. They didn’t want any mistakes in front of their boss.

  ‘Why is the Chief bugging up our asses on this one,’ said Jimmy Crews. ‘This isn’t the only unsolved murder in Newbridge. What about the Carla Carolli case? She’s been dead for three years and nobody says jack about her.’

  ‘Carolli was a seventy-four-year-old grandmother who regularly associated with lowlifes and was a drunk. Quinn Roberts was educated, young and beautiful. It’s as simple as that, my friend,’ said McQ.

  Five minutes later the two detectives stood in front of their boss and painstakingly walked him through the details of their floundering investigation.

  ‘Everyone in the Delaney family as well as old friends in New Jersey and newer ones in Avon were interviewed. Anyone who had contact with Ms. Roberts at her high school reunion was also interrogated,’ said McQ. ‘We found a couple of odd ducks in that group but nothing solid or conclusive. We subpoenaed phone records for Quinn, Alec, Hannah and Jack Roberts. All checked out. We also got a hold of cell phone tower data to see if the husband or son made any trips down to Newbridge the week the victim died. Again, everything checked out.’ McQ looked over at his partner with a “help me out here” look in his eyes.

  ‘We had a look at Alec Roberts’ email and bank accounts,’ said Jimmy Crews jumping in. ‘No unusual emails from him, and his wife rarely used email. According to her sister and kids, Quinn Roberts preferred phone calls to texting. On money – he had it, she didn’t. Her bank account was practically empty. Her only source of income was the check her husband sent to her – when he sent it. It barely covered her rent, electric bill and car insurance. I don’t know how the lady ate.’

  ‘We’ve sent DNA samples to the lab several times,’ said McQ taking over again. ‘We did get a match but it turned out to be the landlady and her son, which we anticipated might happen. We did find one other unknown DNA strand but so far haven’t been able to match it to anyone. A buddy of mine over at the FBI prioritized my request and ran it through their CODIS database for me. No match.’

  ‘What I’m hearing, Detectives, is you got nothing,’ said the Chief.

  ‘Don’t count us out yet,’ said McQ. ‘We’ve got Quinn Roberts’ son coming in this afternoon. That kid is ready to explode.’

  ‘Don’t make me look bad with the press,’ said the Chief. ‘The newspapers are snooping around and Mayor wants this one solved – yesterday. A beautiful mother of two murdered in the Glades has unnerved this entire community. People are freaking out. They think there’s a lunatic walking around murdering people. I want this one put to bed.’

  Four hours later, McQ and Crews waited in a conference room for Jack Roberts to show. The kid was already fifteen minutes late and McQuillan started to wonder if he was going to be a no-show.

  From the beginning of the investigation, something about the Roberts kid was off, but McQuillan couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. Sure, Jack was young, and his mother’s death was traumatising, but he neither cooperated nor helped find out who did it. That didn’t add up for the police. He was sullen, defiant and hostile and the detectives wanted to know why.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Jack walked into the station belligerently and immediately took an adversarial stance. The police had been trying to get him in for questioning for months, but he never returned their calls. McQuillan wondered why he had decided to come in now, why the change of heart? He would let Jack tell him whatever it was that was on his mind, let him get it off his chest. McQuillan would be like a priest in the confessional, no judgments, just forgiveness of sins.

  Jack sat across the table from McQuillan and Detective Jimmy Crews. McQuillan made a little small talk to break the ice and then asked the kid how he was doing.

  ‘How would you be doing if your mother was murdered?’ he answered, staring McQuillan down.

  Oh boy, McQuillan thought as he and Crews made eye contact. We’re not off to a good start. Message clear kid, you’re still pissed off about your mother’s death. Got it.

  ‘I can’t know how you feel, Jack,’ said McQuillan gently. ‘I want you to understand, we’re doing everything possible to find the person who did this.’

  ‘If you’re trying to find the murderer, why do you spend all your time going after my father?’ he asked. ‘My dad didn’t have anything to do with it. He didn’t even know where she lived.’

  ‘He must have known where she lived because he sent her alimony checks there every month,’ McQuillan said. ‘Some people told us your father wasn’t very nice to your mother. We checked in with the Avon PD. They said your mother called them a few times when your father got out of control, but she never pressed charges.’

  Jack glared at the detective.

  ‘Anything you can tell us, Jack, even something you think isn’t important might be what breaks this case open,’ McQuillan said. ‘I keep a picture of your mother on my desk. She has the kindest eyes. When you work a case like this, the victim becomes like family. Every morning I tell her that I’m still in her corner and I will find out who hurt her. I promise her I will see this through.’

  A tear ran down Jack Roberts’ face. Bingo, thought McQuillan.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Jack began. ‘My whole family is screwed up.’

  ‘Tell us what you mean,’ Crews said gently.

  Jack’s face got very red.

  ‘My father’s a dick and my mother was a nut job,’ he screamed. ‘Every conversation I’ve ever had with my dad was like an oral exam. He’s always looking for something to catch you with, to trip you up, to point out how you were wrong. Nothing was ever good enough.’

  ‘It must have been rough,’ McQuillan said.

  ‘And my mother was bat shit crazy,’ Jack continued. ‘When she didn’t take her pills, she was off the rails. Once, she drove up to my college and wandered around campus talking to herself. One of my roommates saw her and pulled me out of class to get her. Campus security detained her until I got there. I was so embarrassed.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ McQuillan said.

  ‘She used to call and text me all the time saying she didn’t want to live without my dad,’ Jack said. ‘How am I supposed to do a paper or take a mid-term when I’m getting texts like that?’

  ‘It would be tough,’ McQuillan said, feeling a little sorry for the kid.

  ‘My dad can be a real hard ass but you’ve got to understand, my mom was off the rails. You never knew how she was going to be,’ said Jack. ‘My father tried in the beginning, but then he gave up when she didn’t take her meds, and he couldn’t control her. He deserves to have a life, too.’

  ‘Sure, he does,’ McQuillan said. ‘Did you ever see your father hurt your mother?’

  Jack looked over at McQuillan and his face got red again.

  ‘He told me you would try to pin this on him and try to frame him,’ Jack shouted. ‘He said you were going to twist things around to make it look like he did it. He told me not to come here, he warned me.’

  The detectives tried to calm Jack Roberts down, but the kid was spinning from a lot of pent up anger. He was mad at his father, but he defended him. He’d lost one parent and didn’t want to lose the other, even if the other was a nasty piece of work. When Jack finished his rant, he stood up, walked to the door and open
ed it.

  ‘Don’t call me until you find the real killer,’ he said. ‘My father didn’t do it, and I’m not going to help you frame him.’ Then, he got up and walked out. That was the last time Jack Roberts ever spoke to the police.

  Chapter 62

  The things Ed Delaney learned about Alec after Quinn’s death kept him up at night. If he had known about it when it was happening, he would have gone to Rochester and beaten the crap out of his son-in-law. He would have stopped it. Now it was too late.

  Dozens of unreturned calls to the Newbridge police made things even worse, all he heard were crickets. Ed was sure he was getting stonewalled but wasn’t entirely sure why. When Alec lawyered up and wouldn’t talk to the cops, Ed hired his own private investigator.

  ‘The Newbridge police only know how to write parking tickets and march in parades, Eileen,’ Ed said to his wife. ‘Murder investigations are way out of their league.’

  A friend from Philly hooked him up with Ben Patton, the famous cable news investigator. Patton was often a pundit on TV panels covering significant criminal cases. All the Patton’s PI’s were retired NYPD detectives and knew their way around a murder. Patton assigned former Manhattan detective Joseph D’Appolito, Joey D’App to his friends, to the Quinn Roberts case.

  D’Appolito was a quintessential New York cop; sarcastic, suspicious of everything and everyone, methodical and thorough. The investigator was exactly what Ed was looking for.