by Torsten Krol
What I’m saying is, I would put my hands over my eyes deliberate for this woman to bring us happiness. Already I junked my plan to join the Army because she’s right, her and Dean, saying it’s crazy to risk getting my head blown off in Iraq if Lorraine can get me a good job as a prison guard. That is steady work because there will always be criminals who have to be kept under lock and key for the protection of us all, so it’s a job for life being handed to me on a silver plate. I would have to be crazy to say no, and I am not crazy.
Maybe twenty minutes later two cop cars and an ambulance turned off the road and came up the driveway, going slow and with no sirens because there’s no emergency here, and the twinkle bars were not flashing either, same reason. They all pulled up in the yard which got it pretty crowded out there, and it was plain from the start which one is Andy Webb. He’s a big guy, although not so big as me, around forty-five maybe, and he looks like a police chief should, smart and tough at the same time, and he’s got three other cops with him.
I watched from the porch while Lorraine went down to speak a few words. He even gave her a quick hug, which was a surprise, not what you might expect from cops investigating a murder scene, but she did say they’re old friends so no big deal. The other cops acted like they didn’t even see it. Then they all came up to the house and Lorraine introduced me to the Chief by way of saying I’m an acquaintance of Dean’s, which was clever of her because an acquaintance is not so close a thing as a friend, so if I did not have all the answers about Dean there’s a reason, namely I’m only an acquaintance, which would be a big help with the questioning.
We all trooped down to the basement and Andy says to me, “Tell me what happened, how you found her.”
So I did, and while I’m talking a couple of the cops are taking pictures of Bree in the freezer, and when they had enough Andy says to start pulling out the pizzas and so forth and get her out of there, which they did, setting everything aside neat till you could see Bree exposed which they took more pictures of, then it’s time to lift her out, which was done real careful out of respect for the dead. They even put on rubber gloves for this part like in a TV operating theater. When they got her out and saw the way her being folded over has hid the shotgun wound in her stomach they looked at each other like to say officially that it’s murder all right and more pictures got took of Bree on the floor next to the freezer with the pizzas and Birds Eye peas beside her. Then the ambulance guys from the coroner set her on a stretcher to take her away and Andy says he wants to talk with me upstairs, so that’s where we went.
Andy and another cop took me to the living room and sat me down. “Odell,” he says, “this is Detective Sergeant Vine. We need to get your account of what happened from the time you came here till this morning when you went down and found her in the freezer. Take your time and tell it just the way you remember. Don’t leave anything out even if you think it’s so small of a detail it isn’t important, because it might be, you never know.”
I must’ve talked about fifteen minutes telling about my car trouble and how Dean took me in and fed me etcetera only I said it happened late Saturday not late Sunday, which gave us an extra day to get acquainted and would explain why he trusted me enough to ask me would I mow those lawns till he gets back. He would not have done that if we only met that day, I’m thinking, and it all has to sound convincing. While I’m talking I heard the ambulance drive away so Aunt Bree has left the building.
When I was done Andy stared at me a long while then says, “That story won’t fly, Odell. After just two days a man trusts you enough to handle his business for him? He leaves without even packing a bag and drives away with someone that you didn’t see, not even what kind of car?”
“It struck me as strange at the time,” I said, “but that’s what happened. I was happy to do the lawnmowing, though. He treated me right, so that was okay by me. I’ve still got the money they paid me, his customers. I can show you. I didn’t spend a dime of it, two days’ mowing.”
“Two days? I thought he left Monday night, so that’s just Tuesday you did the mowing.”
I thought fast and decided the truth would sound best. “Well, I mowed those lawns for him Monday too, on account of he was real hungover from drinking Sunday night. He ought not to drink so much for a small guy, but he did anyway. So that’s why he trusted me to do the lawns Tuesday when he’s gone, because I already showed him I can do the job Monday. I’ve got the money right here.”
“No one’s accusing you of anything, Odell, we just want to get the entire story. Did Dean say he didn’t like his aunt?”
“Well, he went so far as to say they argued about this and that.”
“What kind of this and that?”
“Well . . . religion mainly.”
“Religion?”
“Because he wanted to be a Muslim, he said.”
“A Muslim?”
“Dean didn’t want to be Christian anymore, so he was thinking about being a Muslim instead. He told me his aunt was a diehard Christian with objections to that, which she thought she had the right to say no because she set him up with the lawnmowing business.”
“And did you get to hear any of these arguments?”
“Nossir, Aunt Bree was away in Florida he told me, so I never met the lady until today.”
They were not believing me, I could tell, which got me a little bit scared and at the same time a little bit mad, because I’m only telling them around ten percent lies and they’re acting like it’s ninety percent or something like that. So I trotted out some more truth to set things right. “He’s got books in his room, Muslim books. He showed me them and said I ought to think about going over to the Muslims because Christianity has got it all wrong and they’re the ones has got it right. He told me America is doomed unless everybody quits being a Christian and goes over to the Islamites like he’s doing.”
“And what did you say back at him?”
“I said I’m proud to be American and even if I’m not a regular churchgoer it’s better to be a Christian than one of those others.”
“And what happened then, did he get mad?”
“No, he laughed and says I’m wrong about that entirely, and someday soon I’ll see how wrong I am and I’ll regret it same as those others will.”
“What others?”
“He didn’t say, Christians I guess.”
“Was he making a threat?”
“Not exactly.”
“And during all this religious talk he never once acted like a man that’s killed his aunt and put her down in the basement freezer?”
“No, I would’ve noticed if he acted that way. He was acting normal apart from the Muslim talk. He’s got those books in his dresser.”
Andy gave the nod to Vine and he went away upstairs.
“Relax, Odell, you’re looking kind of anxious.”
“I don’t want people thinking I did something wrong.”
“Nobody’s saying you did.”
“But those others, in the car, they might think so when they read about this in the papers. They might come back for revenge against me.” That sounded good, I thought.
“You said you couldn’t see them, or how many there were. Maybe it was only one man out there.”
“Okay, but he called them his brothers, which I know from Lorraine he doesn’t have, only the one sister.”
“Brothers?”
“Yessir, that’s what he said when he come back up the driveway and says he has to go right there and then . . . because his brothers want him to and he can’t say no.”
“You didn’t say this about the brothers before, and Lorraine never mentioned you saying anything to her about it.”
“Well, I . . . I was embarrassed about what he said, us Christians being wrong and so forth. She wouldn’t have wanted to hear about her own brother saying stuff like that.”
“So you’re saying you think it was a bunch of Muslims out in that car?”
“I don’t kno
w who they were except he said they’re his brothers and he has to go and could I do the lawnmowing for a few days.”
Andy sat looking thoughtful at me and was still doing it when Vine come back down with the Muslim books in his hand and he shows them to Andy. Vine had rubber gloves on but Andy didn’t so he doesn’t want to touch the books, which are evidence now, I bet. Vine showed him the covers and then put them all in a plastic bag and took them away so it’s just Andy and me again.
“Odell,” he says, “did you have the impression Dean was a terrorist? You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Sure, everybody knows about terrorists. Nine-eleven, that was terrorists.”
“Right, and are you saying you think Dean was maybe thinking about joining up with that kind?”
I already told a high percentage of lies about the brothers in the car and making Dean look bad, not that it mattered because he’s dead, but Andy doesn’t know that so I didn’t want it to look like I’m pointing the finger at a man that was friendly to me.
“I wouldn’t say that, no. He just said he had to go away with the brothers.”
Is telling lies about a dead man who’s a murderer okay? I was asking myself this big question because I’m starting to feel guilty. I had to tell myself I’m doing this for Lorraine, along with not mentioning about the package, so we can have a happy life together, and if I was dissing Dean behind his back, it was partway true what I’m saying, and he can’t get hurt by it on account of being dead, so where was the guilt coming from? Maybe I only felt bad because I did not have breakfast yet and that has always been an important meal for me, the one that sets you up for the day and without the right kind you run out of energy midmorning and start reaching for snacks between meals which leads directly to overbesity in children and adults alike nowadays.
Andy stood up. “Let’s take a look at that car of yours,” he said, so I got up too and we went out to the barn, which I wanted very much not to go there because of you-know-who stashed up in the hayloft but stayed calm anyway. Vine come out there too and him and Andy walked around the Monte Carlo. Vine wrote down the plate number in his cop notebook, so you can be sure they’ll run it and find if the car’s mine, which it is and paid for besides, also registered correct and insured for third party so no problem there. And another good thing was I couldn’t smell Dean at all, he’s positioned up too high, but that would change when he really started going rotten which is soon, it’s summertime after all. I had to think of a place where he can get put and not be found.
“Open it up,” says Andy, meaning my car. I did it, then he tells me to turn the ignition. The engine coughed and hacked a couple times and died. He had me get out and Vine got in to try starting her up, but it would not do that. What they’re doing is testing my story about car trouble, so now things are looking good because so far there is not a damn thing they can prove I told that’s a lie. They poked around inside my car, examining stuff in the glovebox, then they run their noses over Dean’s truck, only I can tell they aren’t really expecting to find evidence there. We went out in the yard again and Andy told me to hang around out there while he talks with Lorraine, who has been talking with the two other cops meantime.
Andy and Vine went back in the house and I strolled around casual, waiting to see if anyone else went out to the barn but that did not happen. So then I strolled around to the back yard and the two cops that were talking with Lorraine before are back there poking around. One of them is looking at the square of ground where the chicken coop was until early this morning, kind of kicking at it, then he called the other one over and said something I can’t hear, maybe because he’s talking low on account of they both know I’m there acting natural and unconcerned. Then they both went over to the coop and got on either side of it and started lifting it up! When I saw them do that my heart flipped very alarming and something like a blade run right through me, which I knew was fear, plain and simple.
They moved the coop aside and set it down and there was the mound of fresh-turned dirt looking exactly like what it wasn’t – a new grave. I strolled on over like an innocent man would’ve done and said, “That’s been done just recent, you can tell.” A guilty man would not have said that, which is my way to lead them off the track without it looking like that’s what I’m doing.
“That’s how it looks to us too,” says one of the cops, then the other one headed for the house. I went up closer to the mound but the first cop stopped me. “Stay back,” he says, “that’s evidence.”
“Evidence?”
“Got a hunch there’s something buried under there, and I don’t mean chickens.”
I come over all thunderstruck, acting so good I should get the Oscar, and said, “I bet . . . I bet Dean’s under there!”
“Think so?”
“I bet he is! Him or someone else, anyway.”
“Maybe.”
We stood looking at the mound while chickens pecked at the dirt like we aren’t even there. Andy and Vine came out with cop number two plus Lorraine, and we all stood over the mound. “That’s recent,” said Andy. “Take some pictures then dig it up.”
The camera cop got busy and then they searched around for a spade to use, which was easy because I left it propped against the side of the house after I finished with it this morning. One of the cops took off his jacket and started spading the dirt out with everyone else watching. And while I was doing my share of the watching I looked up at the rest and they’re all looking at me, including Lorraine, and I knew they all thought I did this, dug a grave and put Dean in it and covered it over with the coop. It was just so obvious that they thought that, which was upsetting getting thought about that way, so I said out loud and very firm, “I didn’t do it.” Even to myself I sounded like a little kid caught standing over a broken lamp.
“No one’s saying you did,” says Andy, not sounding truthful at all.
I was upset but tried not to show it. All I did was fill in a hole, and there they stood, four cops and Lorraine, all thinking the worst about me. I didn’t care about the cops but it hurt to see Lorraine look at me that way. Another cop took over after the first one got tired and pretty soon they got to the bottom of the hole. You could tell it’s the bottom of the hole because the dirt wasn’t loose and easy to shovel anymore. And of course there’s nobody there, which is no surprise to me but it definitely was for the rest of them. They were ignoring me now, like all of a sudden I dropped off their suspect radar, which would be a good thing.
“This is not making sense,” Vine said to Andy, who’s looking puzzled himself about it all, and Lorraine was avoiding my eye, maybe embarrassed about thinking I buried her brother under the coop.
“Show me your hands, Odell,” says Andy, and I did. He looked at the palms and felt them with his fingers, then turned my hands over and looked at the nails, which I cleaned with a nailbrush in the shower that morning before calling Lorraine. There’s no sign of calluses on my palms because I used the lawnmowing gloves for all that spadework, then put those back in the truck.
“Fill it up,” he said, and the first cop took up the shovel again, only this time he’s not so excited as before. Andy says to me, “How recent was that earth spaded up would you say, Odell?”
“About five minutes ago now.”
“I mean before we dug it up. There was no chicken poop on it despite the henhouse being put over it to hide the mound.”
“Well, those chickens, I’ve noticed they tend not to go in the coop hardly at all. See how the door’s been busted off? They can’t be kept inside if they don’t want to, and I guess they don’t want to. If I was a chicken I’d want to have freedom and use the whole yard, not be locked in a henhouse. Anyway, Dean said I should stay out of the yard because he saw a rattlesnake back here. He even said to use the clothes dryer in the laundry and not the clothesline out here because he doesn’t want me getting bit and then I’ll sue him for the responsibility of it. Which I wouldn’t have done, I’m not that ki
nd.”
They were all looking at me like I’m an idiot except for the cop doing the shoveling, and I was telling the truth, so that shows how people can never truly understand each other and know when the truth is being told.
Andy scratched at the side of his head, then says to me, “You’re saying it was Dean spaded out this hole and then filled it again?”
“Well, I don’t know because I didn’t see him do it. I only know it wasn’t me, but it was done recent like you said because it wasn’t all dried out on top like it would be if it was done some time ago.”
You might think I’m putting my neck in a noose talking that way, incriminating talk, but I was doing it because they would not expect someone to say something that puts him in a bad light, so it makes me look even more innocent than I am.
Lorraine said, “With the coop over it keeping the sun off, that dirt’d stay fresh-looking and moist, and if the chickens stayed out of there that explains no chicken poop.”
“Okay,” says Andy, “but it doesn’t explain why the heck someone dug a grave and then decided not to use it.”
“Well, maybe it was Dean that dug it to put Bree in, then he changed his mind for some reason and put her in the freezer instead.” Lorraine was doing her best to get their attention back on Dean, who’s gone missing under Suspicious Circumstances as the saying goes. Andy kept looking at the dirt being shoveled back in the hole very rapid and thinking whatever cops think, most likely thoughts about why it was done and who’s the one that did it.
“I’m thinking about turning this over to Homeland,” Andy said to Vine.
“Why?”
“This Muslim connection, I don’t like it.”
“It’s a little vague, don’t you think?”
