by Rich Foster
Alan himself, had spent his life bargaining with a god who allowed the horrific to happen and living in depression caused by the specter of death that cast it’s long shadow across his life. In the woods, having faced his own death, he found he could now accept that Eric was dead and that this was the natural course of all living things. For that matter it is the natural path for the whole universe, which will eventually spend its fuel and blink out into eternal night!
God would be the exception to the natural order of things. Things move toward chaos, God would be order. The natural world moved toward death, an eternal God would be life. Alan was flesh and blood and so would move as the natural order moved. He discovered he could accept death. In acceptance he found freedom from the fear of what may come. It was a watershed moment when he was no longer pushing his brother’s death and family’s failure down the road of life.
That night, after Karl fell asleep, Alan pulled “On Death and Dying” out from his pack. It was tattered and beaten. Having been wetted and dried numerous times, the pages were stuck together. Whole chapters were missing, chapters he had used starting the fires that saved his life. Now, he dropped the book into the fire. He watched as the flames lapped at the edge of the pages. The words on the cover bubbled, turned dark, and then were swallowed up by the flames. Alan stretched out near the fire and pulled the animal skin over his shoulders. He closed his eyes. Soon he drifted off, to the world of dreams.
“You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”
Alan looked up. Ralphie sat on the far side of the fire. The boy’s eyes were misty and rimmed with sadness.
“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t thought about it.”
“You’re changing, Alan. You don’t need me anymore.” Then Ralphie began to shimmer like a ghost and he was gone.
Alan awoke to a beautiful early summers day. The air was warm early on. He and Karl sipped on chicory coffee while they cooked bird eggs for breakfast.
“Damn, it is good to be alive!” said Karl, as he was wont to do each morning, regardless of the temperature or weather. “Summer’s almost on us, mid-June already. I reckon in another two weeks we’ll be out of here! What you gonna’ do then, son?”
Alan realized he hadn’t a clue. What must Lilly think by now? It seemed silly but he had not given real thought to what came next. She must think him dead by now. How stricken with grief would she be? Or would his demise be a relief? Would she find his return an encumbrance? Alan thought of the waiting debts, the unresolved issues in his marriage, and the job he loathed. Did he really wish to go back? Did he really want to be Alan Chandler again? Here in the woods Alan was free to find and redefine himself. But, how would he handle his life when he was back in Beaumont? Thought after thought ran thought his mind. He wondered if there would be a place for himself.
Karl could sense that Alan was wrestling with big thoughts. He remained quiet. With the good sense to give him needed space, he soon wandered off for an unmentioned duty. Alan barely noticed his departure.
Did he really miss Lilly? The fight their last night together had made him see how shallow his knowledge of her was. Suppose she were dead? Would he grieve? He found he could answer yes with complete honestly, but knew it would not be a lasting or damaging sorrow.
They had been complimentary parts. They were complimentary parts, merged together like a yin and yang symbol. But what happens when one changes its shape? By necessity it must affect the whole! How had the woods changed him? How had coming to terms with his life altered his own “shape”?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lilly was returned to Beaumont from the Canaan County Jail. Her attorney had promptly filed for her to be released on bail, in that she had shown no intent to flee. The District Attorney argued that Lilly had shown her contempt for the law and a willingness to do as she pleased. Furthermore, she continued, no evidence had been brought forward to show that Alan Chandler was alive. And why was it that Ms. Chandler knew where to find the car that had been the subject of an extensive air and ground search.
Joyce Dennison had used her press releases to promote interest in the possible lurid details of the case. At the bail hearing she played to a heavily attended public gallery and full press pool. With an impassioned plea about the dangers of permitting an alleged murderess to walk free among “decent God fearing people” she called for rejection of bail. So effectively did she inflame public sentiment that Judge Ashe refused bail as much to protect Lilly Chandler, as to prevent her from fleeing. Though he ordered her held, he did returned her bail money to Charles Blain, stating that it was clear that, though she had left the Parson’s County, her intent was not to flee.
The next day Charles was able to speak with Lilly for the first time. He waited at a table, a glass partition up the middle of it.
The door swung open and Lilly was ushered in.
“Be seated.” Ordered the female guard. “Keep your hands on the desktop at all times. Do not reach over the partition or attempt to make physical contact. You have fifteen minutes.”
“Lilly, it won’t be long, the preliminary hearing is next week.”
Lilly pulled a pack of cigarettes from her sleeve and lighted one. “It’s all over!”
“I am sure there will be a dismissal!”
Lilly looked at him despairingly. “Even my lawyer looks as though he’s afraid! He wanted to approach the D.A.’s office about a possible plea bargain.”
“But they really have nothing!”
“My counsel said that the forensic team found Alan’s blood type in the Jeep.”
“That could be from the accident!” Charles protested.
“It was on the carpet fibers in the back.” Lilly drew deeply on her smoke and her body seemed to deflate as she exhaled.
“It is not over, Lilly. We can beat this!”
“Listen to yourself, “beat this.” What is there to beat? I never did anything!”
“I don’t mean it that way.”
“They have me framed tight! That cop, Maddox, takes delight in all of this!”
“What if you were framed?” Charles asked.
“No jury will buy that the police are out to get me.”
“Not the police---your husband! What if he intentionally disappeared and left you framed for murder? What if he planted the blood and crashed the car? At least as a theory it poses reasonable doubt.”
“Half of the circumstantial evidence I created myself trying to cover for Alan at work or by being ashamed to admit I was smashing dishes during a fight. You know, I really am a good person.”
Charles leant forward and touched her cheek. The guard rapped her baton against the metal door. When a startled Charles looked she silently pointed with the baton and gestured for him to move back.
“I shouldn’t have got involved with you. I just wanted to stop the pain. And I was afraid and I was scared to be alone.”
“Does the “why” matter now?”
“I guess not. When he disappeared I was frightened. At the same time I felt guilty. It was a relief to be free from his constant introspection. Why did he have to push? Why couldn’t he love me for who I was?”
Charles was about to speak when a buzzer reverberated off the hard walls.
“Time!” Called the guard and with no further chance to take her leave from Charles, Lilly was led from the visiting room.
*
Joyce Dennison leaked items to the press. “Sources,” reported on the Chandler’s money difficulties. Neighbors were interviewed about the fight that occurred the night the “victim” disappeared. People “close to the investigation” leaked evidence lists, along with a list of items that were seized under the warrant search. Much speculation flowed in the press about the insurance money trail. Where was the missing gun? Was the body in the river or was the car simply a ruse? The papers frequently referred to Lilly’s “lover” and possible accomplice, though none actually dared to print Blain’s name. A few calls to editors from Charles lawyers and
a background check on his wealth put the fear of litigation into them.
Charles brought in legal counsel from New York. Travis Parks was retained as the lawyer of record only because he was licensed in the state. But he was present in name only. Channing Webster played in a league Parks would never know. Twice he had argued cases before the Supreme Court. Three time he had gotten convictions overturned. He had wrung acquittals from juries that even money could not buy. He was eloquent and wore confidence like a shroud. There was not a single attorney who had faced him who had not spent the night before in dread, both before and after the case went to trial
Webster’s appearance in Beaumont made the case a media event. Joyce Dennison was pleased. She felt certain she was on the fast track to an appointment at the Justice Department. Television crews turned up in Beaumont to do background pieces on the trial. The week leading up to the preliminary hearing was filled by charges of underhanded tricks, and prejudicial bias. The two attorneys sparred via press releases and interviews. Channing Webster bemoaned the fact that small towns could not afford modern day criminal science techniques. And while sympathizing with the challenges the local police faced, he managed to imply they were all incompetent. Joyce Dennison countered by inferring guilt by association. Only a murderess would need a lawyer of Channing’s reputation. After all, was he not known more for gaining “not guilty” verdicts than for proving the “innocence” of his clients?
Joyce felt it would be August or September before the case came to trial. Hopefully it would run right up to and past the fall election. However, that applecart was upset when the defense filed a motion to wave the preliminary hearing and go immediately to trial. Furthermore, in his brief, Webster held, if the case wasn’t brought to trial within thirty days of her arrest he would file for a dismissal. Later it would be known in legal circles as “Channing’s poker call”.
Judge Ashe scheduled a hearing that was held before a packed courtroom.
The bailiff called the court to order. Judge Ashe reviewed the motion.
“Are you sure you want to pass on the preliminary hearing, Counselor?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“And you are ready to go to trial immediately?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Judge Ashe seemed dubious about any lawyer’s ability to prepare for a murder case in less than seventy-two hours, even one of Channing Webster’s stature. Judge Ashe then queried of the prosecution.
“Your Honor, this is quite irregular. There is no way we can have our case ready on such short notice. Nor do I see how the defense could be adequately prepared. I must question the defense counsels motives for such haste. This would seem to be a ruse for laying the groundwork for an appeal, by claiming incompetent counsel when the defendant is convicted.”
“The bench notes the District Attorney’s concern for the rights of the defendant. However, the defendant has requested a speedy trial and unless she is willing to wave that right this case must come to trial within thirty day of arrest. How does June 17th sound for commencing jury selection, councilors?”
Joyce Dennison was speechless. Disaster was rearing its jaws over her head.. She was about to protest the impossibility of this early date when Webster spoke up.
“If it pleases the court. The defense also wishes to waive our right to a jury trial and request adjudication by a judge. Furthermore, if the calendar is clear, instead of the scheduled prelim tomorrow we request that the case come to trial!”
A buzz went through the crowd. Reporters who had covered capitol cases recognized the seismic significance of Webster’s actions and wrote down notes madly. Joyce Dennison rubbed her temples with her fingertips. This did not pass unnoticed by the press corps. She had been sandbagged and they knew it. Webster was forcing her into a rushed trial and a hurried case was a fragile case. Quick preparation left more opportunities for error. Besides, Webster did not have to prove Lilly Chandler’s innocence; he only had to tear the District Attorney’s case apart! Any attempt to postpone the case would be viewed as being obstructive. The defense would use any lack of preparation by the prosecution as proof that the State’s case was weak.
Judge Ashe looked down at his calendar; he then studied the back of his hands. When he looked up, all rustling and whispering had died away.
“In that the defense is ready for trial and in that the prosecution has had greater time to assemble their case, I order this trial to commence tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. Court stands adjourned until that time.” Then with a sharp rap of his gavel, court was recessed and Judge Ashe rose and left the room.
*
That afternoon Sergeant Maddox reviewed the reports from the Chandler case. With the surprise start of the case, he wanted to be prepared. Channing Webster was a clever tactician; he did not want to be caught off guard.
First he reviewed his notes from the case. Mentally he walked through each step he had taken during the investigation. He penned an outline of each day’s activities to firm it up in his mind.
Then he reviewed the individual statements that had been taken from the witnesses. He read the statements given by Lilly’s neighbors. Another had been taken from Patrolman Trembal, who was the officer who checked out Alan’s illness. The gas station attendant had little that could be used at trial. Most likely the Sheriff from Canaan County would be subpoenaed to testify about Lilly’s statement that her husband was returning from a trip.
Could Alan Chandler have left his home of his own volition and then gone off the road by accident or by intent? The answer seemed clearly yes! But, then why were there three different stories from the prime suspect? Maddox tried to construct a scenario that would account for Lilly having three versions of where Alan was the Monday morning he disappeared. Even the dumbest crooks that Maddox busted knew the value of “that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” Criminals only changed their story when caught out in a lie. However, Lily had volunteered the conflicting information!
Her explanations for lying were even worse. They had a fight but she did not remember how she got to bed or where the blood on the floor came from. She lied to Corey Trembal because she was fearful Mr. Voss would fire her husband. But if Alan was already gone, how did she hide that from Alan’s boss? She said she and Charles Blain were only friends, yet that was obviously false.
It seemed Lilly Chandler was either a pathological liar, or very, very stupid, or she was a gifted actress working from a convoluted script. She did not strike Maddox as the former despite her behavior, however if this were a planned crime he was certain the plan was not of Lilly’s making! Maddox asked himself, why would a man of Blain’s wealth get involved in a murder, or at least in helping to cover one up? Lilly was attractive but was she a siren, who could make a man destroy himself trying to obtain possession of her? Could she incite a man to commit or abet murder? Maddox did not think so! Of course, if Alan’s death was accidental, and Blain only helped hide the body the charges that could be brought against him would be few. That is, until he had made sworn statements to the police. Now he would be liable to a charge of perjury and obstruction of justice. He would face more jail time for that than hiding a body. Would anyone make a murder plot with the intent of being caught, put on trial and beating the rap? It would be a bold plan. If they did it and were acquitted, they would be protected by double jeopardy. However, if that was their plan, then Charles Blain should be trying to get arrested so he could be tried too.
Maddox ran his fingers through his thinning hair. The facts just did not add up for him. He picked up the report from the forensic lab. According to the report, type AB blood was found on the carpeting in jeep’s cargo area. The type was a match with Alan Chandlers. Furthermore, the lab stated the DNA was a match with the blood samples taken from the broken dishes found in the Chandler’s trashcan. The report noted that it could not be determined when the blood came to be inside the jeep. However, blood was found on a newspaper dated the Saturday before Alan Chandler disapp
eared. So, the blood came to be there within forty-eight hours of his disappearance!
It was possible Alan Chandler’s body had been in the back of the car. Or perhaps he was alive and driving himself. He survived the crash long enough to get blood in the back of the car and then was swept away down the river. Maddox knew they had tried to search the gorge. If Alan went in the river it was unlikely his body would ever be found. If the body were found, it seemed even more unlikely it would be in any condition to establish a cause of death beyond any reasonable doubt.
The Highway Patrol report stated the jeep appeared to have left the road without leaving any indication that the driver attempted to brake. The report continued that the slope the vehicle descended was loose talus and evidence of the cars path had been wiped out by gravel slides and rain. The vehicle appeared to have rolled on its slide down the hill and been submerged for a period of time.
Maddox dropped the folder. He found the case to be maddening. No matter which direction he let his thoughts run, they ended up contradicting each other or metaphorically “tripping over the facts.” The statistical odds favored Lilly being guilty. He knew that sixty-five percent of all homicides are committed by a family member. Much of the time the person who reports a murder or finds the body proves to be the murderer. Maddox’s instinct leaned toward a theory that Lilly accidentally killed her husband and then disposed of the body. To accomplish that, given where the Jeep was found, she would have needed help, but Charles Blain seemed an unlikely accomplice. Maddox appraised him as a wealthy dilettante who wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty. But being guilty and proving it were two different things.
He picked up the Highway Patrol report and thumbed through the photographs, which were taken the morning that Alan Chandler’s Jeep was hoisted out of the water. The first set was taken with the Jeep resting on the flat rock ledge above the water. Others were taken back at the police impound yard. As he studied a shot of the car’s interior he was struck by an incongruity. He couldn’t be sure without seeing the car itself, but if what he saw was correct, then Lilly was innocent.
