Sibley's Secret

by Frank Perry

that knew how much he hated Hicks. They all hated Hicks and were glad he was dead, glad their Sergeant did in Hicks as they had often wanted during the war. Carter was also made to testify and told the truth; he hadn’t been there when the shot was fired, only afterward when his father was standing over the man, holding the rifle. Carter pleaded with the jury and cried to his father. John loved his son, even as he helped convict him, Carter told the truth before God, and that made John proud of him, knowing how hard it had been. The final evidence against him was two guns found in the house when the sheriff’s men searched it. The rifle had been recently fired and the bullets were .30 caliber, the same as the slug removed at the hospital. All in all, it was a pretty tidy case for the prosecution, with no witnesses for the defense except John’s version, arguing against a dead man.

  The jury didn’t deliberate long, finding him guilty. The judge acted equally fast, sentencing John to die in the electric chair. Technically, John could choose hanging instead of the chair, but he remained silent, too stunned to say anything after the verdict was given. He’d testified truthfully, providing every detail to the jury, but in the end, the testimony of a dead war hero outweighed his. The jury looked mournful when they filed out; there had never been a death sentence issued for anyone in Jackson County that could be remembered. It was a serious breach of state law. Capital punishment had been banned in Michigan, except for high treason. This ban was overlooked by the Judge, who was trying his last case before retiring to some property owned by the Sheriff. The defense had been a sham with an unqualified county-appointed attorney who failed to comment on the sentence. If anyone outside of the court recognized the breach of the state constitution, they remained silent.

  Public reaction was either horror or jubilation. Outside the prison, as the time for the execution was near, vigils were held for the victim and for the condemned. In John’s case the demonstrations weren’t all for his release, most were for his salvation, without regard to saving his life. He had killed a war hero; a hero that he had slandered in the newspaper, then killed when the man tried to object.

  Carter and his mother were allowed to visit John for three hours before midnight when the execution was to proceed.

  She cried while John stroked her soft hair, “My darling wife, my eternal love, please know that I will always be with you in spirit. We’ll be together again someday in heaven.” They held each other until the prison guards arrived. As their hands finally slipped apart he mouthed “I will always love you.”

  Earlier he had given Carter instructions about the contraband in their barn. Carter had cried the whole time, barely able to nod with his father’s instructions. He didn’t want to fail him, not his dying wish. John’s heart wanted the stolen property returned to the rightful owners, but it would implicate Carter and, by association, his mother in the crime. They had to hide it. It was their only chance of survival. It would be hard enough on the farm without his newspaper income, but they must survive.

  Carter held his mother while she sobbed uncontrollably when John was taken away, disappearing down a long dark brick hallway. Carter became the man of the farm that night. Sarah and Carter were still inside the state prison when, at midnight, the lights dimmed for several seconds, then after a long pause it repeated again until the prison doctor confirmed John was actually dead. The execution had been done in their new “Edison” electric chair by inexperienced guards.

  The following day, a prison delivery truck brought the body to the farm and laid it unceremoniously on the porch uncovered, still clothed in his prison uniform with deep burn marks on his head, wrists and ankles. There was a death certificate pinned to his shirt.

  Rendezvous

  Evan’s SMS message said she should take the Metro blue line at six o’clock to Kiyevskaya station and wait at the top of the escalator. No more instructions were provided. It was rush hour and the trains ran at short intervals. She ran to the station and boarded a train before anyone following her could have reacted. It took less than ten minutes to travel the distance, passing Evan’s station en route. She was standing where instructed at the correct time with the cold night air blowing in gusts around her. She wore tall leather boots, heavy grey overcoat and a mink hat. Except for her nose and ears, she was comfortable. People returning home from work passed her as she looked for Evan, but an unknown man approached her from behind, the same man Evan had met in the café the night before.

  He initially frightened her, speaking as he rounded in front, “Miss Chuikov, please follow me.” He gestured toward a waiting car at the curb, but she recoiled. Sensing her fear, he said, “It is all right, Miss, I am a friend.”

  “I do not know you!” She looked around for the police.

  “Miss Chuikov, please do not be alarmed, but we cannot stand here too long if you were followed. I met with Doctor Evanoff last night, and we agreed to this plan, he wants to meet with you, but we must leave now. I have sworn to protect you.” He gestured again to the car as kindly as he could.

  She was momentarily perplexed. The man looked like he could protect her, but he also looked like he could be a ruthless killer. Sensing her reaction, he stated, “If I wanted to harm you, we would not have taken such precautions to get you here at night. If you look at the bottom of the stairs and over there (pointing to a corner of the station), you will see my men.” She saw them; both looked capable and each made brief eye contact with her as a signal. “They followed you onto the train and are now assuring that you are not followed. If you will join me, please.”

  She submitted. She didn’t like being manipulated and controlled by others, but she felt he was telling the truth. The man was obviously aware that Gregori Jelavich had been tracking her.

  Once inside the car, she was alone in the back seat able to jump out at will. The driver and the man in charge sat ahead of her. “Where are you taking me?”

  He didn’t answer her immediately, alarming her as she reached cautiously for the door handle. He finally spoke as the car pulled to the curb in front of a small cafe, “There.” She was about to say something when he continued, “You should go inside, and we will wait here for you to return.”

  Inside, she saw Evan, and he waved. The place was nearly empty. It was late for dinner by American standards but still early in Moscow.

  She sat with him, smiling but speaking in a low voice, “What are you doing? I am so happy to see you, but I cannot believe you arranged this. Who are those men who guarded me?”

  He smiled and reached for her hand. “They’re some new friends of mine. It’s so good to see you.”

  They spent the next hour speaking in low voices as people began filling the tables around them. They ate a nicer meal than he could have afforded on his partial salary and enjoyed a bottle of red house wine. Except for the covert nature of their rendezvous, it was a romantic dinner, something he had wished for since they first met. Now it seemed, she wanted it, too.

  They smiled a lot and spoke affectionately, much differently than prior times outside of work. As the table was cleared for the final time, he reached in his pocket and slipped a small package and an envelope across the table. “Here, I want you to open these when you return home.”

  She didn’t know what to say. It was a perfect evening for their first real date. He walked with her to the entrance and helped with her coat. “I can’t go outside with you, but I enjoyed seeing you again. I hope we can do it again soon.”

  She smiled and shocked him by kissing him quickly, “I as well.”

  She walked out, leaving him feeling light headed. He never expected her public display of affection.

  On returning to her apartment, she opened the package, finding a small cell phone and envelope. The envelope contained a note:

  This phone is supplied by the people protecting us. I have one identical to it. They each are programmed for the other. They are encrypted and not traceable. Use it whenever you want to
call me and I will do the same. Keep it hidden except when we talk. Destroy this note..

  Love, Evan

  She looked at the tiny phone and placed it in her handbag. It wasn’t the romantic gift she had expected.

  The Visit

  Kiki’s flight arrived on time and Jim stood waiting at the concourse exit, as promised. He’d been there over thirty minutes, standing with a small bouquet of flowers that were beginning to wilt. She smiled and waved. From appearances, this visit would have the qualities she secretly hoped for. They weren’t middle aged yet, but they weren’t kids either. Both had been married and had lived alone for years. They were both ready for a change.

  He kissed her on the cheek and took charge of her luggage after handing her the flowers. She smiled, “Do you have a vase when we get to your place?”

  “Um, I have a beer stein.”

  “Typical guy.” Men were so predictable.

  The drive to his townhouse took about forty minutes. It was located in a wooded country setting, halfway between Jackson and Ann Arbor. It was beautiful. Once inside, she commented, “This is really nice, Jim. How does a small-town cop afford this?” It was a modern open-concept home, large enough for a young family. It was also immaculate, which