An Alibi A Day

by A. R. Winters

  “It’s... going,” she said. “Though I don’t think ‘well’ is quite the right word to describe it.”

  “I’ve never investigated a murder,” said Charlie, almost idly.

  She glanced back at him again. Of course, he hadn’t investigated a murder. Almost no one had. It wasn’t exactly a common human experience, unless you were a detective whose job it was to investigate murders.

  “First time for me too. But I’m really not supposed to be doing it. So please don’t tell anyone.”

  Charlie tapped a hand against the dashboard idly, as if in thought. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone. But you should know, I think everyone already knows you are. At least, that you’ve been asking questions. And apparently you had a big fight with Larry Junior?”

  Allie shook her head. “We had a mild disagreement. And anyway, we’ve made up now. He even invited us for a drink.” The last bit sounded better than what it had actually been, Allie realized.

  “That’s good. So, will you let me know if you need any help? When I’m not gardening, I don’t have much to do these days.”

  “No hobbies?” asked Allie as she steered the car around a gentle bend with complete ease.

  “None as interesting as investigating a murder!” Charlie laughed.

  “And... here we are,” said Allie as they reached the small passage between the B&B and its neighbouring stone building. She started the indicator, not the windscreen wiper, and then carefully drove the car in, making sure she drove exactly down the middle between the two buildings.

  She parked in the far corner, exactly between the white painted lines.

  “I’m pleased to say you’ve passed your test,” said Charlie with a grin.

  Allie gave him a curious look. “Oh! A joke!”

  “That funny, huh?” said Charlie with a self-deprecating toss of his head.

  “Sorry, my head’s been a bit of a mess these last few days,” said Allie.

  There was a sharp rapping on the glass of Allie’s window. She peered out and saw a red-faced girl in running clothes staring at her in astonishment.

  “Who’s that?”

  “That—is Jackie. My sister. She’s probably wondering who you are and what we’re doing.”

  Charlie wriggled his eyebrows at her. “I bet she does.”

  Allie didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. She opened her door and exited the vehicle while Charlie did the same on the other side.

  “Hello,” said Jackie with an impish grin. “I saw you, you know. I was running, and I saw you driving this car, and I couldn’t believe it. When you ignored me, I assumed it was just your doppelgänger, but I followed you anyway. But sure enough... it’s you!”

  “Yep,” Allie confirmed. “It is indeed me. I think I’m going to go inside now.”

  Jackie shook her head definitively. “No. Not till you tell me who this is,” she said, pointing a finger very directly at Charlie. “Hi!” she said to him, over the roof of the car.

  “Hi,” he said back.

  “I knew you’d want to know.” Allie poked Jackie in the shoulder as if her curiosity was unwarranted.

  Jackie answered with an exasperated opening of her mouth and raising of her eyebrows in a come on, give me the goss right now! look.

  “My car broke down. Charlie took me to a garage, and then he loaned me his car. He put me on his insurance.”

  Jackie looked unimpressed at the brief summary. She clearly wanted all the details, not an executive summary.

  “On his insurance? Like his wife?”

  Charlie laughed uproariously. “I never thought of it like that!”

  Allie frowned. She didn’t want anyone thinking of it like that. She’d just met the guy.

  “So that’s a yes, then,” said Jackie. “Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Jackie.”

  He raised two fingers to his head as if doffing an invisible cap. “Charlie, as you heard.”

  “He said he wants to help us with our investigations,” said Allie without expression. She wasn’t sure whether Jackie would be pleased at the idea of help or annoyed at the idea of a stranger getting involved in their business. It was hard to judge people’s reactions, Allie found.

  “Does he now? Are you a detective, Charlie?”

  He shook his head. “I’m a gardener. I do own a metal detector though. Does that make me a detective?”

  Allie shook her head at him. “That makes you a detectorist.”

  “Did she tell you all the details?” Jackie put her arms on the roof of the car and leaned on it as she spoke.

  “Not really. I just know the gossip.”

  Jackie gave the kind of smile that said I’ve got a cunning plan. “Well then, Allie’s free tonight. Why don’t you and her have dinner together, and she can fill you in.”

  “Sure,” said Charlie with a pleased smile.

  “What!?” said Allie, thumping Jackie’s thigh just below the window line so Charlie couldn’t see.

  “Dinner.” Jackie squeezed Allie’s arm just above the elbow. Firmly. “A nice dinner, with the handsome man who loaned you his car. You owe him.”

  She had a point. He’d refused her offer of money, but she was still in his debt.

  Charlie beamed at being called handsome. “How about I drop by here around seven?”

  Now that Allie had realized that it was merely a way to repay Charlie, her worries about it being a date disappeared. “Sure, seven sounds great.”

  “I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got to put up a shelf for Old Patricia.”

  “See you at seven,” said Allie with a wave as he started to walk away.

  “It’s a date!” he called back over his shoulder.

  Allie glared at Jackie, who couldn’t contain her pleasure.

  “You’ve got a date, you’ve got a date, you’ve got a date...”

  And the teasing kept coming for quite some time.

  Chapter 16

  Allie resigned herself to the fact the she had indeed been tricked into going on a date with the handsome gardener. She didn’t think it was really what you were supposed to be doing in the middle of a murder investigation, but Jackie had strongly, strongly disagreed.

  “There, you look lovely,” she said, standing back and admiring her handiwork.

  The only clothes Allie had brought with her were her standard wardrobe—jeans and plain T-shirts. She was of the opinion that it’s much less stressful to start each day if you don’t have to make any difficult decisions like what to wear.

  Jackie had done her makeup. Allie knew the basics but had never taken much of an interest beyond that. When she peered into the mirror, she was surprised at what she saw. Through some kind of trickery, Jackie had made her eyes look much bigger than they naturally were and her lips much plumper. Her skin had been smoothed out, and the way she’d applied the lipstick made her look almost... pouty.

  “Are you sure you’ve done this right?” asked Allie dubiously.

  Jackie nodded confirmation. “You look great. Your gardener’s not going to be able to keep his eyes off you.”

  Allie poked at her face dubiously but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Who’s that?”

  Jackie opened the door to their room and Grandma Em stepped in immediately.

  “Wonderful! I can’t believe you’ve got a date, Allie. Jackie filled me in.”

  “Oh, hi Em. Nor can I. I was trying to go for a quiet drive and... I don’t know what happened!”

  “She met a handsome man, that’s what happened,” said Jackie sounding very pleased with herself.

  “So, who is he? Who’s the lucky fellow?”

  “His name’s Charlie, and he’s a gardener.”

  Grandma Em looked up in thought. “Oh. Charlie? Young man, lives with Old Patricia?”

  “That’s the one, he’s delish.” Jackie poked Allie in the shoulder. “Isn’t he?”

  “He seems nice. He loaned me his car,” said Allie.

  “He’
s pretty new to town. I don’t know all that much about him.” Grandma Em said it in such a way that Allie just knew she was going to do everything she could to find out all she could.

  “Allie’ll find out all about him, won’t you?”

  She shook her head. “You know I’m not nosey. We’ll make polite conversation, but I’m not going to go prying.” She shook her head with determination to show she meant it.

  “Don’t worry,” said Grandma Em, squeezing Jackie’s shoulder. “I’ll ask Old Patricia all about him. Find out everything.”

  “Everything?” asked Jackie with a wicked grin.

  “Everything.”

  “It’s almost seven, so I’m going to go on this stupid date. You two can gossip amongst yourselves.”

  “Don’t worry, we fully intend to,” said Jackie with a smirk.

  Shaking her head in exasperation, Allie left the room and went down to the carpark. Jackie and Em were planning to go to the village pub for dinner, and Allie was jealous. Why couldn’t she be having a family dinner instead of going out with a stranger?

  When she got to the carpark, Charlie wasn’t yet there. It was almost dark, and the carpark was very poorly lit, the only illumination provided by a rather tired floodlight attached to the B&B’s grey stonework which provided barely enough luminescence to make out the outlines of the various cars.

  She slowly walked over to the Miata, which had been joined by a blue Nissan in the adjoining space. She peered at her phone, seeing it was seven precisely. Typical. Charlie was going to be late.

  She pulled the car key out of her small handbag and went to put it in the driver’s door. Just before she did, the interior light of the car flicked on. She looked in the window.

  And screamed.

  A face was peering out at her, all flashing teeth and crazed eyes. She stepped backwards quickly, bumping into the Nissan. The death threat they had received earlier immediately jumped to the front of her mind and slammed her with panic. Was this the murderer, waiting in the car to get her?

  The Miata’s door swung open, and Allie began to quickly scoot away sideways, down the gap between the cars.

  “Hi! Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Charlie.

  He wasn’t late. But he was in her car. Only it wasn’t her car. It actually belonged to him, didn’t it? But he’d loaned it to her. So, it was hers for the time being. But he’d let himself in, presumably with another copy of the key…

  She was not comfortable with this at all.

  “Hello,” she said in a small voice, trying not to let it quaver.

  “Come on, get in. I’ll show you how to really drive this thing.”

  Allie almost backed out there and then, but his tone was so friendly, she almost felt like it would be mean to turn him down now.

  “I thought I was going to drive the car.”

  “No need! Come on, hop in.”

  So Allie did.

  “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a little Italian place just outside Buckleminster. Only twenty minutes away—fifteen with me driving.”

  “No speeding. I’m serious.”

  Charlie looked a little forlorn. “Okay. I’ll drag it out the whole twenty minutes. Come on.”

  Apart from accelerating a little too quickly for Allie’s tastes, Charlie proved to be an acceptable driver, her earlier warning being enough to settle his boy-racer tendencies. On the journey over, she filled him in about what she and Jackie had been up to but didn’t mention the death threat they had received. He seemed to find everything she said fascinating, though Allie wasn’t sure if that was because it was her speaking or because the topic—murder—was so inherently interesting itself.

  Nineteen and a half minutes later, they pulled into a dark carpark next to a brightly lit old building that had clearly spent several centuries as a pub before being converted to its current incarnation as an Italian restaurant.

  “Best grub for miles.” Charlie’s voice was boyish with enthusiasm, and Allie couldn’t help but be just a little excited.

  Inside, the restaurant was pleasingly cosy, with a real fireplace and a genuine log-burning fire at one end, and along the back wall the old pub bar was still intact. The dining tables were all of dark brown wood that showed they had years of polish ingrained in them. And best of all, they looked clean.

  Charlie had made a reservation, and they were quickly seated at a table for two not far from the fire by an eager young waiter with deliberately messy blond hair. She was pleased with their seating position, because if the conversation became awkward, she could just stare at the flames as if lost in thought.

  Charlie was dressed in a pair of well-fitting jeans—clearly his ‘going out’ jeans rather than a pair he used while gardening, a checkered shirt that fit his torso perfectly, and a sports jacket. She walked behind him as they were led to their table, and she could see the large bulge of his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans—not that she was deliberately looking at that area of course—and she couldn’t help but notice how well his jeans fit his rather athletic frame. He probably earned his figure from his hard work outside, she surmised.

  “Are you starving? I thought maybe we could just share some garlic bread for a starter? Unless you’re really hungry?”

  Allie had to think for a moment before answering. She wasn’t one for sharing. Especially not with a stranger. But as it was garlic bread, perhaps she could just pick up her own piece or two; it wouldn’t be like sharing an actual plate of food.

  “That sounds nice,” she lied with a smile.

  “And a glass of wine?”

  “Oh, no thank you. I can’t drink wine. Even a glass makes me giddy.”

  “Good,” said Charlie almost absentmindedly as he peered down at his menu book.

  Allie began to tap her fingers on the table in thought. Sharing the cheapest starter on the menu? Pleased about not having to buy any wine?

  When the waiter took their drinks order, Charlie ordered them a jug of tap water to share. The tap water in Gloucestershire tasted far better than in London, and Allie had read that the water was actually cleaner than bottled mineral water. Good choice, Charlie.

  “I think I’ll go for the spaghetti agli… aglo… spaghetti with garlic and oil,” said Charlie. “It’s really good.”

  Spaghetti aglio e olio was the first dish on the list and not entirely uncoincidentally, the cheapest. At least, Allie assumed it was not a coincidence. She had a theory about Charlie, and she just needed to confirm it.

  “If you recommend it, then I’ll have the same.” She of course had a secondary reason for choosing the same dish.

  Her thinking was this: if you and your dining partner choose different dishes, then there is a fairly large risk that your dinner companion might suddenly lapse into insanity and declare let’s try a bit of each other’s dishes! You’d have to be a maniac to think digging your fork into someone else’s plate for a taste was acceptable behaviour, yet people did it every day.

  “Oh. You know, if you got something different, we could try—”

  As soon as she heard the if she started shaking her head, and by the time he got to try she had to speak. “No, no, you must get the dish you wanted. I think it’s nice to have the same dish.”

  He slowly nodded, and she could see his lips silently moving as if rehearsing a counter argument. She had to nip that in the bud, and luckily the waiter appeared at their side to assist, an old-fashioned pen and notepad in hand.

  “Are we ready?”

  Charlie looked like he was about to say he needed a moment, but Allie was more than ready.

  “An order of garlic bread to start, and we’ll both have the spaghetti aglio e olio. That’s two orders, on two separate plates.”

  “Very good.” The waiter scribbled on his notepad for a moment and then looked up at Allie again. “Would you like a mixed salad to share to go with that?”

  “Could you do two small side salads?”

&nbs
p; “Certainly, madam.” After quickly scribbling down the final part of the order, the waiter hurried off to the kitchen to place their order.

  “So how are you liking the car? She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  That was it. She had definitely figured it out. After being put on the spot by Skip, he had rashly loaned her his car, and now he regretted it. He didn’t want to take her for a meal, he wanted to make sure his car was going to be okay. It was like the pre-screenings they do before letting you adopt a child—though in this case it was post rather than pre.

  “Well, the only time I drove it was with you, earlier. It seems nice enough.”

  “Nice enough? She’s a beauty! Did you hear her when I accelerated out of Hackleston?”

  She had not. “It was lovely.”

  “Are you not a car person?”

  “Oh no, I’m a car person.”

  “You are? But you—”

  “I love my car, but I don’t really know much about any others.”

  “Your old Toyota? That piece of—”

  Worrying he was going to say something she would regret, Allie interrupted. “It belonged to my dead mother. It’s basically all I have of her.”

  Charlie’s face dropped like a rock in the ocean, and Allie felt a pang of regret at her bluntness. Sure, it was sad, but for her it had happened years ago, and she was usually at peace with it. But most people didn’t quite know how to react when she told them.

  “I’m… sorry.” Charlie was staring down at his hands, his cheeks looking rosy all of a sudden.

  “But your car is nice too. I’ll look after it. I’m very careful with possessions.”

  Charlie smiled again. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s only a car.” He said it in much the same way as a heart surgeon might say it’s only a heart after his assistant dropped it on the floor—not very convincingly.

  “Garlic bread,” said the waiter as he appeared again by their sides.

  Allie almost began to panic when she saw it, but quickly launched into action to avert disaster.

  The garlic bread wasn’t, as she had imagined, a small basket of garlicky slices. Instead, it was one really long piece of bread served on a rectangular plate.