A Perfect Alibi

A man was dead, but who did it?

Getting myself ready for work at 6am, I’d just climbed out of the shower when I heard my intercom ring.

I pulled on my dressing gown in my bedroom, tightening its belt before I pushed the curtains aside.

Under one of the tall lamps in the car park outside my flat, I spotted my sister’s little blue runaround.

I rushed to the intercom and buzzed her in.

After climbing the stairs, Becca walked across the landing to my door. She was trembling, her face ashen. ‘Mack’s gone.’

‘You mean he’s left you?’ ‘No, he’s dead,’ she replied. ‘What?’

‘Mrs Jenkins rang, she lives two doors down at number nine. She noticed a broken window at Mack’s place. The police found him inside,’ Becca went on. ‘It looks like a murder, she said.’ ‘Murder? Murder how?’ I tugged her inside, aiming her towards the lounge.

‘Mrs Jenkins didn’t know how it happened. She just wanted to break the news first so it wouldn’t come as a shock when the police arrived. Then she said, “As you’re his girlfriend, expect to be a suspect.”’

Becca pressed a hand across her mouth as if lost for words or feeling an impulse to gag herself.

She sagged into a chair, shell-shocked.

‘I’ve seen this on TV,’ she went on. ‘They pick the most likely person then make everything else fit. It’s not like we have a hundred murders a year here, is it? They’ll want to clear this up quickly so it looks like they know what they’re doing.’

I’d never considered my sister nurtured any survival instincts. She’d certainly shown none when it came to her boyfriend.

The day I first met Mack I knew he’d be trouble. Tall with wide shoulders, he’d worn a suit and tie. He’d also worn a grin as he’d clutched on to Becca’s hand in the Bucket & Shovel pub.

‘Hello,’ he’d said, full of smarmy charm. ‘Good looks run in the family, I see.’

I’d squinted up from my seat in the snug at his boyish face and floppy hair.

‘Don’t I know you from school?’ I asked. ‘Weren’t you in Mad Mackenzie’s chemistry class? You went out with Sophie, Laura, then Emma, didn’t you?’

He laughed off my insinuation.

‘That was a long time ago.’ ‘Are you calling me old?’ I didn’t want his company, but my sister set down her drink, then pulled up a chair. She seemed eager to show off her new squeeze.

‘He works for Benson’s estate agents. He’s shown me round a few flats already.

He says

She just wanted to break the news first so it wouldn’t come as a shock

my apartment’s too small and I need an upgrade.’

‘How nice of him to put in so much effort,’ I said cuttingly.

‘I’m going to buy some crisps,’ he said, setting down his beer then turning away.

I did raise my eyebrows when he bought Becca a bag of cheese and onion without asking if she even wanted a snack.

Some would have seen it as nothing but a nice gesture, but I saw how he reclaimed her hand and hung on tight.

I saw how he kept checking other’s men’s reactions to her presence.

He wanted them to find her attractive but he also wanted to make it clear she belonged to him.

Yes, Mack — real name Michael Noon — that kind of guy. And now, somebody had killed him.

In my flat, I fetched tissues and sweet tea for my sister. I sat and sipped at my own comforting brew, waiting for her emotions to settle.

‘If you were home alone all night, it’s not good. You need a solid alibi,’ I told her. ‘Here’s the thing though, we need to be careful. Did you take your usual route here?’

She nodded.

Our market town was hardly home to a criminal underworld. CCTV cameras weren’t exactly plastered on every street corner.

‘You won’t have been picked up on any cameras leaving your building then. In that case, we can say you

‘You won’t have been picked up on any cameras leaving your building’

were here all night. I’ll back you up. So long as we stick to our story they’ll leave you alone. They’ll find the real killer instead.’

Eyes red from her tears, she blew her nose.

‘Did you watch Strictly?’ I added.

She frowned, confused.

‘Er, well, yes, but…’

‘Good, then we’ll say we watched it together,’ I explained. ‘If they ask for any details to prove it, we’ll know who danced the tango and the jive. We’ll say we drank wine and got a little squiffy then you crashed out on my sofa. And be a little vague about the timings, nobody remembers everything perfectly.’

I did remember perfectly the first time she’d asked for advice over Mack. She came to my door, bemused over something he’d done after a few months of dating.

‘He’s invented this nickname for me,’ she explained, pacing up and down in my kitchen. ‘He says it’s funny. He keeps calling me… Chunks.’

‘Chunks? As in fat? You’re not fat? Is he being ironic? Does he mean he thinks you’re skinny?’

Her face grimaced.

‘I don’t know, he says it’s all a bit of fun,’ she shrugged. ‘I’d tell him not to do it, but I don’t think it’s worth fighting over. He doesn’t like to argue. He says I’m no good at it. I don’t know how.’

‘Do you think maybe you ought to dump him?’ I’d said. ‘I can’t, Chloe. I love him.’ Does he tell you to say that? I wondered as she paced a little more.

I assumed she knew him better than me. She often called him charismatic, funny and outgoing, yet this has clearly unsettled her.

‘Call him something in return then. How about Mack the Knife?’

Her brow creased, the reference lost.

‘Look it up,’ I told her.

I wondered if she ever had, as we rehearsed our story. She appeared suitably fraught doing so. After a while, I went into the kitchen for a breather.

I leant over the sink, feeling abruptly nauseous. She found me there, shaking with tears on my face. She wrapped me up in a hug.

It’s not all a one-way street with us. I’d survived a few lesser dramas of my own over the years — losing jobs, bad relationships, arguing with my landlord.

‘This is an awful lot to deal with, Becca,’ I said.

‘Who do you think did it?’ she sobbed.

Did you? popped into my head out of nowhere. Some people will always think so if nobody’s caught.

‘You said Mack took a few things he shouldn’t, and I don’t mean he was stealing from work.’

‘He said he only took things recreationally.’

‘That’s what they all say. He could be in debt for all we know. His place could be full of threats from dealers. Maybe somebody had a grudge. A brother or father of some girl he messed about years ago, you know

he had history. Maybe things got out of hand, maybe they only thought he deserved a few bruises…’

She winced at the word.

The first time I noticed a mark on her skin, she was wearing a diamond ring.

‘We’re engaged!’ she’d announced.

After not seeing her for months, I’d bumped into her and Mack in a supermarket, the air-con hardly dealing with the summer heat.

He pushed a trolley full of beer away down the aisle, not even acknowledging me. A year into their relationship, he knew I’d never like him.

‘We’re going to elope, in the spring,’ Becca explained.

‘But you always wanted a big wedding… What about Dad? He’ll be devastated if he doesn’t walk you down the aisle. What about Mum? She won’t get to buy a hat,’ I half joked. ‘I won’t be a bridesmaid either. I won’t get to wear an ugly dress.’

I tried to make light of it while my insides churned.

That day, I imagined her turning from a real woman into a puppet. She never made a move on her own.

Then something inside me cracked apart when I noticed the dark bruise blooming on her arm.

‘How did you get that?’ ‘Oh, I bumped into a shelf at work, it’s no big deal,’ she said, covered it up. ‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me? Soon I’ll be Mrs Noon.’

‘Congrats,’ I said. ‘Are you coming over at the weekend for a girlie night in? We could have a nice long chat.’

‘Sorry, I can’t. Mack has plans.’

Didn’t he always? I’d a feeling right then if nothing changed, something awful would happen.

‘Did you kill him?’ I asked her in my kitchen.

I wanted to see her eyes widen then fill with outrage.

‘How can you even ask me that?’

I got the reaction I craved

— hurt, anger, a little fear.

‘The police will ask,’ I said. ‘Even with an alibi they’ll ask time and time again. It won’t be long now before they find you. I’m going to check the internet and see if the news has broken.’

The town’s local rag seemed to have got the story first. I read the headline from my tablet as we sat together.

‘ Local man found dead,’ my voice quivered. ‘ Police entered a house early this morning after a neighbour noticed a broken window and received no response. Inside, officers found a man deceased in suspicious circumstances. The police won’t release any further details until his family has been notified. A neighbour suggested it could have been a burglary gone wrong.’

I sat for a moment breathing hard. With a metallic taste in my mouth, I thought of Mack’s parents.

Becca had told me a little about them. They’d fallen out with their son years before after he’d got some young girl pregnant and abandoned her.

He’d lost touch with his sister too — as far as I knew she lived in Australia, never wrote and never rang.

No attachments and very few friends, it all only added weight to my theory of the kind of man he’d been.

Maybe, in the end, he’d got what he deserved.

‘Instead of waiting to be contacted, why don’t we go to the police ourselves?’ I said to Becca. ‘We can help them with their inquiries, isn’t that what they call it?

I’ll ring my boss and tell him I’m not coming in today. I’d better go and get dressed.’

I went to the bathroom, a weight in my chest.

It all only added weight to my theory of the kind of man he’d been

I thought of the last time that I’d seen my sister with her fiancé. By chance, I’d passed by as they’d exited a pub in town. He’d leant over Becca.

‘You’ll do what I tell you, you hear me?’ he’d yelled.

Then he’d caught sight of me and his demeanour changed. He even smiled and laughed it off before he took my sister’s hand and pulled her away.

She’d never have left him. Never. One day she’d have simply died from the inside out, a living tragedy.

In the bathroom, I stared at my reflection.

‘I’m glad he’s gone. I wish I could say otherwise.’

I picked up my nailbrush and stared at my hands. I knew I’d always imagine they were stained bright red.

I gave them another scrub, brushing and brushing and brushing. I’d already washed my tainted skin for hours before my sister arrived.

‘Sorry, Mack,’ I whispered. ‘But I did warn you more than once. If you carry on hurting Becca, you’ll have me to answer to.

‘I think I’ll get away with it now. I’m such a tiny woman and of such good character. I was with my sister all night as well. Becca will back me up. She is very good at doing what she’s told. I can’t let her break that habit you taught her, Mack, not yet.

‘But soon, I promise you, she will be free at last!’