The Death of Alan Chandler (The Red Lake Series Book 1)

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The Death of Alan Chandler (The Red Lake Series Book 1) Page 12

by Rich Foster


  He had an excellent voice for the courtroom, thought Maddox.

  “And you are the lawyer, I presume?”

  “Yes, I am J. Travis Parks, attorney-at-law. And once again I ask just what the hell is going on here, officer?”

  Maddox was not one to be intimidated, especially by someone almost young enough to be his son. Besides he believed that inside every attorney, there was an actor dying to get out. Crime and justice were often just a morality play.

  “I am Sergeant Raymond Maddox and we are searching the premises with the permission of your client.” He looked at Lilly. Twilight had fallen while they were waiting for her attorney. Now deep shadows filled the kitchen. Lilly seemed to be trying to melt into them.

  “You don’t want us to find your husband, Lilly?”

  “I want you out!”

  “You see Sergeant, permission is no longer granted, so get out!”

  The lawyer pointed at the door rather dramatically, chest out and feet spread.

  He really is very good, thought Maddox smiling to himself and clutching the warrant in his pocket. It’s a perfect Perry Mason moment. I hate to ruin it for him, he thought.

  “Well perhaps a luminal test could help us,” said Maddox.

  “Don’t touch that switch!” Parks was nearly shouting at the tech whose hand lingered near the power switch to the black lights.

  “I said it was time to leave!” He repeated emphatically.

  Maddox nodded his head, slowly while he gave his best aw shucks sort of grin. “I wish I could, sir,” he said. “But this warrant says I have a right to search this house.” With a flourish he pulled the warrant out of his pocket and handed it to J. Travis Parks. “If you would step over by your client I believe you will find it all in order”

  Parks squinted at the paper in his hand. The room was almost dark. “Can we get some light in here,” he demanded.

  “Certainly!” said Maddox and he gestured to the technician who turned on the ultraviolet lights.

  Iridescent blue light flooded the kitchen. White clothing glowed with luminescence. Their faces seemed to be ghostly apparitions.

  “What is that?” Lilly gasped pointing at the kitchen floor. Her eyes bulged as though she had seen a ghost. Bluish streaks covered parts of the floor. They formed swirled smears, as if the kitchen had been poorly wiped.

  “That, Mrs. Chandler, is traces of blood!”

  In the pause, which followed as everyone, looked at the floor. Then like a director ending the act, Maddox called for lights.

  Officer Lane flipped the switch by the door and a dozen can lights on the ceiling lighted up the room. Lilly Chandler had her hand over her mouth. Travis Parks was frozen, his lips parted as though he was about to speak. Maddox appeared pleased with himself.

  “You are acquainted with the luminol test, are you not counselor.”

  When Parks didn’t respond Maddox pointed at the floor.

  “What you see is the chemiluminescences of luminol. Our blood has a pigment called haemoglobin. It’s what carries the oxygen through you and me. Now when the luminol is exposed to the haemoglobin, it reacts with the iron in the pigment. This chemical reaction creates luminescence under ultra violet light. What we are seeing is blood someone has tried to clean up very carefully. Blood which I believe will match the blood on the broken dishes we have seized.”

  Parks finally found his voice. “This proves nothing. This could be anybody’s blood”

  Maddox walked over to Lilly and took her hands. He lifted them and looked at her bare arms.

  “Well it certainly isn’t yours Mrs. Chandler, not a mark on you. Then again maybe it’s your missing husband’s blood. Would you care to comment?”

  Lilly began to speak, “Well I don’t…”

  “Not a word Lilly” her lawyer snapped. “My client has nothing to say at this time.”

  Maddox and Parks eyed each other. They were opposing sides of justice facing off.”

  “Lilly Chandler I must warn you anything you say can and will be used against…”

  “She knows her rights officer.”

  Maddox glowered at the lawyer before continuing.

  “…against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?”

  “I told you she knows.”

  “Counselor please be quiet for the moment. I am addressing the lady!”

  With a single look the Sergeant let J. Travis Parks, Esquire, know it was best to be silent. Maddox returned his gaze to Lilly.

  “Yes,” she whispered almost inaudibly and then asked, “Am I under arrest?”

  “No, but I would ask you to come downtown for questioning.”

  “I told you my client has nothing to say!”

  “In that case we will ask questions and you and your client can decline to answer. If necessary I will have her held as a material witness. Now why don’t you two step over there and have a seat. First we will we photograph this. And then we are going to finish searching this house.”

  It was after ten o’clock when the squad car pulled up to the back of the police station. Lilly reached for the handle and suffered the ignominy of realizing the door wouldn’t open from the inside. An officer swung the door open and she stepped out under the harsh glare of the parking lot lights. The sodium vapor lights drained all color from her face. She looked like a frightened doe being jacked by a hunter’s spotlight. She trudged up the steps. The door of the police station swung closed, heavily, behind her.

  Earlier before they left the house Maddox and her lawyer had crossed swords again. Parks had insisted that he should be able to drive his client downtown. Maddox insisted the police give her a ride. Maddox won.

  Lilly was escorted down the cobblestone walk in front of her house. The streetlight shone on her like a theatrical spotlight. She was well aware of her audience. Every neighbor on the street was either glued to their windows or congregated across the street. This reality show was better than television. Someone hissed, “They’re taking her away.” Then their chatter fell silent as she drew near. On the far side of the street they retreated into the shadows either ashamed of their voyeurism or leery lest crime be contagious.

  Travis Parks accompanied her down the walk, but when he tried to follow her into the squad car Maddox stopped him.

  “I think it best if you take your own car.”

  “I thought she wasn’t under arrest?”

  “Oh she’s not, as I said, she’s a material witness. But this way there’s no temptation for you to talk in the squad car. I wouldn’t want to overhear any privileged conversation between you and your client. You might later use it to get the case thrown out. Besides, when we get done you may want to drive your client home.”

  At the police station she was escorted upstairs to a small interrogation room.

  “Please wait here until your attorney arrives,” said Delaney who had brought her upstairs. Lilly took in the room. It was standard police issue. One wall had a metal door with a small covered peep window through which they had entered. On the opposite wall was a window grated with crisscross metal fencing. The sidewall had a large mirror. The fourth wall was blank. Overhead were fluorescent lights, which sucked the color and life from the room. In here it was always three in the morning. A steel table was bolted to the floor. The rings welded to its side puzzled Lilly until she realized it was for anchoring prisoner’s handcuffs, if needed. Her jacket and purse lay on the table along with a pitcher of water and paper cups. Around the table were four polished metal chairs. They were straight backed and had no pad.

  Lilly poured herself a cup of water. She drank it down and poured another. While she sipped she drifted around the room stopping at the window. Below was the parking lot. While she watched, Travis Park’s Porsche pulled into an empty spot on the far side. As he crossed the lot he stopped to greet a policeman he apparently knew. The two shook hands. It bothered h
er that her attorney was actually friendly with the police. At least he would be here soon. Lilly hated being left alone in a room.

  She looked in the mirror and was startled by the stranger she saw looking back. This stranger was pale. Her red hair was disheveled from running her fingers through it. And her hand had smudged her pearl white lip-gloss. The blue eyes were tired and lost. Lilly turned away. She finished the water and put the cup down. She picked her purse up and opened it. Standing in front of the wall mirror she brushed her hair, wiped the edges of her lips with a Kleenex and applied a fresh coat of gloss. Using her hand she brushed away bits of lint and smoothed her clothes. The stranger in the mirror had disappeared. She was Lilly once again.

  On the other side of the glass Maddox watched as she inspected herself. Lilly smiled several times, then ran her tongue across her teeth, removing some invisible speck. Then she gently slapped and pinched her cheeks to add a little color. Satisfied she returned to the table and sat primly down. Her manor said I am in control and I have nothing to worry about. Maddox lifted the phone and dialed the duty desk. “This is Maddox. I‘ve got a lawyer coming in. Let him cool his heels in the lobby. Tell him I’m temporarily tied up. When he gets antsy tell him there is nothing you can do until I’m free.” He hung up and took a last look at Lilly. She shifted in the hard chairs. Maddox knew how restless they could make one become. When Lilly poured another cup of water he left the observation room and went to get a cup of coffee.

  Fifteen minutes later Lilly tried the door. It was locked. Claustrophobia crept around her. The room seemed smaller. Her equanimity was faltering. She pounded on the door. “Let me out!” she cried with panic edging her voice.

  To her surprise the door immediately opened. Officer Delaney politely asked if he could help her.

  “Yes,” she said struggling to maintain control. “Where is everyone, I saw my Attorney arrive almost thirty minutes ago!”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Sergeant Maddox had to take a call. I’m sure he’ll be up with Mr. Parks in just a few minutes.”

  With that he closed the door. Lilly suddenly wished she had asked to use the bathroom, but she felt foolish knocking again. Just wait she said. Just wait.

  Within minutes the door opened and Sergeant Maddox, a stenographer, and her lawyer entered. Maddox was in the middle of an apology for having kept Parks waiting.

  “They really should have shown you up.” And turning to her he continued, “I am sorry Mrs. Chandler for the delay. Well, shall we begin?”

  They sat down around the table and Sergeant Maddox said, “Is it okay if this is taped?”

  Parks said, “Tape away we have nothing to say”

  And so Sergeant Maddox began to ask questions.

  For the next half hour Maddox posed questions and Parks on behalf of his client declined to answer. Lilly shifted restlessly in her chair. She desperately needed to use the bathroom, but was too embarrassed to ask. At last she leaned over and whispered into her attorney’s ear. Parks looked at the near empty water pitcher and the paper cup in Lilly’s hand. He then turned his attention on Maddox.

  “I really see no point in continuing this questioning Sergeant. It is late and I wish to get going. Our answer will always remain the same, no comment. So, please charge my client or release her.” He was brusque, expansive and pompous, certain that Maddox would not risk charging her with so little evidence. In the silence which lingered the only sound was the rustle of the stenographer hands continuing their task and Lilly squirming in her chair.”

  “Very well,” said Maddox seemingly resigned to the inevitable. Parks smiled until he heard the Sergeant continue. “Lilly Chandler you are under arrest for lying to the police and making a false report to an officer.”

  “What false report?” blurted out Lilly rising from her chair, unable to restrain herself.

  “You filed a missing person report at the same time you told an officer that your husband was in fact asleep in bed,” said Maddox.

  “You’ve got to be kidding?” shouted Parks.

  “Not at all, I’m sure I will have no trouble in holding onto your client for a little while.” As he spoke he removed the handcuffs from his belt and snapped one side onto Lilly’s wrist. She pulled away, but he held her arm firmly and closed the other cuff on her opposite wrist.

  “I’d like to see my client alone, Officer.” Parks eyes flashed back and forth between Lilly and Maddox. He hadn’t expected this. Rule one was never lose control of the situation, and this situation had just totally slipped away from him.

  “Of course counselor, just as soon as she is booked. But that may be quite a while. You may wait in the lobby until she is ready.”

  Maddox walked Lilly to the door, and then gave a hard rap with his fist. When Delaney opened the door he said simply, “Book her! Also have a policewoman take her to the bathroom!” Lilly flushed pink embarrassed that her bathroom crisis had been so obvious.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Alan shivered while huddled in the small rocky recess. He hadn’t been this cold since the day he fell into the river. The night before, he had luxuriated with a warm fire and a full belly, now he cowered in misery. His watch read a little after three in the morning. It would be hours before the sun rose, leaving him haunted in the dark with his thoughts. A light drizzle fell on and around him. During the night the clouds had settled on the mountains and wrapped the woods in a dense fog. It would block the sun until much later in the morning.

  Alan was rapidly losing strength; he was physically and emotionally spent. A solid meal and one good nights sleep had helped. But a bad night, this night in particular, had pushed him closer to the edge. Trapped by the darkness, he was unable to block the thoughts that came to his mind. Repressed fears rose to pounce on him. And a small internal voice kept trying to tell him something about himself, which he sensed would help explain how he got to such an emotional dead end.

  For past weeks he had been taut, like a guitar string that someone kept turning the screw on, with each twist, the string’s pitch became higher and shriller, far off key and ready to snap. He had fought to keep control. The internal voice whispered disquieting truths to him; that the fight with Lilly was an attempt to escape the anxieties that swept over him in waves. That it was an attempt to make her feel his pain. Who gave a “damn” about the Denton’s? He asked himself. Why fight about them? He now realized he was trying to get past her shroud of self-sufficiency. If she knew how he felt, then she would do something about it. If he could just get beneath her skin then she would know what it was to be him.

  Without knowing why, he pushed and pushed. Goaded by his barbs, the heat of the moment, and too much wine Lilly, exploded. She, who had avoided conflict all her life, came in touch with the fountainhead of all her repressed fears and hurts. Anger, which had never been expressed, turned out to have been carefully stored away in the dark rooms of her psyche. Alan saw the rage flow up and out of her. He watched, mesmerized as the woman he thought he knew changed before his eyes. The mask of control had been wrenched away by his hand and now the floodgates were thrown open.

  For Lilly, Alan became the symbol of every slight, every missed opportunity, and every repressed frustration. Alan became lost clients, social snubs, and insults she had suffered. He was the childhood taunts from the playground, and the ill fitting second hand clothes she had worn to school. He was the mother who never wanted her and he represented the injured feelings she had learned to hide.

  Her face became crimson and the veins in her temples pounded like a drum. Vituperations rose from her throat and she threw obscenities like a drunken sailor. He had wanted her to show her feelings, to get angry, to be alive in the way he was alive, aware of the pain in his existence. He realized now how foolish he had been. He had completely failed to see the depths of Lilly’s own secret pain.

  The wine glass flew first. It left her hand and Alan barely managed to deflect it with his forearm. It shattered on the wall beside him. He was foolish
enough to glance at it on the floor and a plate whooshed past his head close enough that he could feel the air move. Lilly fired a barrage of cups and plates. She emptied one cabinet and started on the next. Bowls and glasses rained down around him. She launched them furiously, he could only bend and duck, dodging as many as possible. Dishes shattered across the floor. Glasses bounced off the cabinet behind him and crystal showered down around his bare feet. It was impossible to move.

  Through it all, he was spell bound. Lilly had always been so self-contained. This was someone new; it was one of the Furies! Bits of spittle flew from her lips with each curse and tears streamed freely from her eyes. Her hair waved like snakes as her arms pitched dish after dish. She was drunk, but not just from the wine but from waves of emotions she had always denied.

  Her last missile was a wine bottle. It came straight at his face. He tried to dive to the side but he was late and caught the bottle square on his nose. He went sprawling through a pile of shattered dishes. On the floor, he felt like a version of the Chinese, “death by a thousand cuts.” His nose was bleeding profusely and his arms and legs were a mass of small lacerations. Numerous slivers of china protruded from his arms. They all bled, but nothing was serious. However, the blood and dish shards made quite a mess. He cleared a path through the debris to a roll of paper towels. He put a towel and ice to his nose and daubed the cuts until they began to coagulate. Carefully he tiptoed thru the mess to the bathroom. In the bathroom he found tweezers and removed the glass splinters one by one. Then with numerous band-aids he finished patching himself up.

  Lilly had passed out with her last blow and lay on the floor snoring loudly. When he returned to the kitchen he picked her up and carried her to bed. As her body pressed against him a red smudges were left on her nightgown. He lay her down on the bed and drew the covers up over her. Looking at his wife he realized how little they really knew each other. Suddenly he was overwhelmed by disgust and the urge to run away. All he wanted was to escape and for a while to be left completely alone.

 

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