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Alibi Page 8


  Nard finished talking to Sticks and hung up. He looked at his watch. I don’t know if I can wait till no seven-thirty. Damn. Nard surveyed the block. Nothing but silence, almost too silent for West Philly. He walked back into the apartment building and took the elevator to Cathy’s floor. He opened the apartment to find everything like it had been. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, he had a premonition. The police were right there, guns drawn, shouting, telling him to get on the floor, pointing loaded forty-calibers, ready to take aim and prepared to shoot to kill.

  “Freeze, step away from the door, put your hands on your head.” Nard turned around to see what looked like the entire police precinct in the apartment building hallway. Where they had come from, he hadn’t a clue, how they got in the building he would probably never know. But one thing was for certain, they had him. He wished he could run and hide, but in his heart he knew that there was nothing more he could do.

  Little did he know, he had been caught because of Cathy Robbins’s bird ass. She had pretended oh so well, a real Hollywood actress, yes sir indeed. Get that bitch an Oscar now. She knew exactly what was going on when the nigga rang her phone.

  “Yo, Cat, what’s shaking, baby?”

  “Who this, Nard?” she asked as she picked up the remote and turned down the television. She was watching Channel 10 news when the photo of Nard flashed across the screen. I didn’t know that nigga’s name was no Bernard Guess. She laughed to herself. She had been listening to Captain Dan when her phone rang. She listened to Nard with one ear and continued listening to the news with the other.

  “Mmmm hmm, come right on over here. I ain’t doing nothing,” she said, thinking all kinds of devious thoughts to herself. “You got some condoms, right?” she asked, just to throw the nigga off. “All right then, see you in a few.” Cathy jumped up off the bed memorizing the crime stoppers number. I can’t believe it, I can turn this nigga in and get me twenty-five thousand dollars. Damn, twenty-five thousand dollars just for one dumb-ass nigga. Please lord let him get here safe and sound. Let me see my crime stopper number one more time. She looked at the piece of paper that she had written the number down on. Certain that she had the number memorized, she tore the paper into tiny pieces and threw them into the trash. And once he got there, you would never know Little Miss Crime Stopper was on her j-o-b. But she was. She pretended her ass off for that twenty-five. Fucked Nard, sucked Nard, flipped his ass all around and everything else until she could get outside to the nearest telephone booth and dial 911.

  “Hello, I got him—Bernard Guess, the Somerset Killer. He’s in my apartment. Hurry!”

  Poor Nard, he didn’t even see them coming, had no chance to even think or blink. Nard simply put his hands up and knew that this was only the beginning. Thank god, if he had nothing else at that very moment, he had an alibi.

  LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE

  Shut the fuck up! What’s his name?” Delgado asked as he looked at Ross.

  “Umm, Bernard Guess,” said Ross, looking in a folder at the suspect’s name.

  “Did we read him his rights?” asked Delgado.

  “Umm, I don’t know.”

  “Exactly. How the fuck you going to arrest me and not read me my rights.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” said Delgado, as he punched Nard hard in his face. “You don’t have any rights; fucking read him his rights,” ordered Delgado.

  Ross began reading his rights to him as she looked at her chipped pointer fingernail.

  “Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you,” she said. She bit her nail, then continued.

  “I need my phone call.”

  “The lines must be down, phones not working,” she said as she spat her fingernail in his direction, lifted the phone, listened to the dial tone, then hung it back up.

  “Who the fuck are you calling?”

  “I don’t have to answer any of your questions,” said Nard, already knowing his rights.

  “Shut the fuck up!” said Delgado, sucker-punching Nard and watching him fall out of the chair and onto the floor.

  Merva glanced up but simply continued reading Nard his Miranda rights.

  “Stop hitting me, fuck is wrong with you.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? You want to tell me what happened on Somerset and why you killed those people?”

  “Fuck outta here. I ain’t killed nobody.”

  “Really, you didn’t kill a little boy?”

  “No.”

  “Shut the fuck up, fucking liar,” said Tommy. He hit Nard so hard that he lay, eyes wide open, unconscious on the floor.

  “See, how we gonna interrogate him if you gonna beat the suspect up?” said Ross, looking at her partner.

  “I fucking hate being lied to, Merva, it fucking pisses me off,” said Tommy as he sniffled and wiped his nose.

  “There’s a bug going around.”

  “I know. I got the worst cold.”

  “Try TheraFlu.”

  “Aargh, my head,” said Nard, looking around the room.

  “Get the fuck up and stop acting like you’re hurt. I want to know what happened and why you killed those people. And if you don’t stop playing games with me, I’m going to sit you in a holding cell until you’re ready to talk.”

  “I told you, I don’t know nothing about no murders. I was in the Honey Dipper that night. I was drinking and partying with some girl. I think her name was Rose, no, no, it was Daisy.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, I swear to god, don’t fucking lie to me, pal.”

  “I’m not lying. I swear, I was in the Honey Dipper. I ain’t killed nobody,” said Nard with extreme confidence. “You better check my alibi.”

  “I’m not checking jack shit, pal. Fuck you and fuck what you said. You were already picked by your victim, bro. Book him on murder one, fucking slime bag. Get him the fuck outta here,” said Delgado, shooing Nard away from him.

  “Book him?” asked the officer.

  “Yup, book him. Lock his ass up until the cows come home for all I care.”

  “He’s lying. You know he’s lying about his alibi,” Merva said, looking at Tommy, who was shaking his head, ready to blow a gasket.

  “Of course he is. Saunta Davis IDed this scumbag before she died. I’m not letting this guy go. He’s a murderer and he’s the one, I know he is. I can feel it. He killed those people, Ross, he killed them.”

  “I know, Delgado, calm down, we got our killer.”

  Reggie pulled his sleek and sexy Jaguar to a complete stop in front of a For Sale sign that had been placed on a perfectly landscaped lawn.

  “I rode by this house yesterday. Don’t you love it?” he asked as he grabbed her hand.

  “Oh, my god, Reggie, yes. It’s…” She just couldn’t find the words. “… absolutely the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.”

  “I know, and look, it has a fenced-in backyard, so it probably has a pool, too. I think we should definitely put this on our list of homes to see. This is a good neighborhood, with good schools, and it’s real close to the city. I like Mount Airy, don’t you?”

  “I love it; I could live here,” said Daisy, all smiles.

  “So, you call the agent and ask her the price and set up a time for her to show you some houses in the neighborhood, but start with this one. Then when I get back from this business trip I got to take, you can give me a full report.”

  “You leaving? When you coming back?”

  “I got to go out the country to take care of some business, but I’ll be back in two weeks. Don’t worry, I’ll be back, and when I get back I’ll need to know everything, from how old the house is, to how many bedrooms and how many baths it has, but the most important thing is that you like it, and you’ll be happy living in it.”

  She looked at Reggie and at that moment she knew she had found the man of her dreams. He was someone who would look out for her an
d take care of her and be a good provider to her. He was the perfect height, nice and tall just the way she thought the man of her dreams would be. And while he dressed in suits, he was very down to earth. Reggie was five-eleven and weighed in at 213 pounds. He was a tad on the heavy side, carrying a few pounds that he had put on over the past couple of years, but all in all, he carried the weight just fine. He was a handsome man, very appealing, with dark brown eyes, black hair, and a smile that would warm your heart.

  “Reggie, I’m happy just being with you.”

  “Me too, baby. I got to go by the shoe store right quick, and then I’ll drop you off, okay?”

  Daisy figured that now was a better time than any to tell Reggie about her losing her job. Well, she wouldn’t actually be telling him about her real job, but she would pretend that her make-pretend job was her real job, and real or fake she didn’t have it anymore. Worst thing was that she didn’t have any income. She was praying deep down in her bones that the man of her dreams would help her with her rent. Lord knows she’d need it now that she had no job.

  “Umm, there’s something I need to tell you, Reggie,” said Daisy as she looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

  “What, babe, why you looking like that for?”

  “ ’Cause I lost my job.”

  “You lost your job? What happened?”

  “They said that business was slow and they couldn’t afford to keep me, so they had to let me go,” she said, trying to look and sound as convincing as possible.

  “Damn, baby, I’m sorry to hear that. Don’t worry about it, you’ll get another job.”

  “I know, it’s just that I don’t know what I’m going to do until then. I don’t know how I’m gonna pay my rent.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I got you, you’re my girl, so you ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

  Daisy just sat back in the luxury of the Jaguar and looked out the window as the car rolled past the city streets. People waiting for buses, nope that wasn’t her, and young mothers pushing strollers, nope that wasn’t her, old people limping down the streets holding canes in their hands, that wouldn’t be her. No, Daisy had plans, big plans, and because of Reggie Carter all her dreams were beginning to come true, or at least that’s what she thought.

  The next morning Daisy woke and got out of bed. She felt an undescribable soreness and when she tried to use the bathroom, an undescribable burning sensation. The burning and soreness were so bad that she immediately called her doctor and made an emergency appointment. Just as she opened the door and was about to leave, the mailman entered the vestibule, unlocked the mail holder caddy, and began placing everyone’s mail in their caddy holders.

  “Here you go,” he said as he handed the day’s mail to Daisy.

  “Thanks,” she said, turning around and taking the mail back inside her apartment. In too much of a rush to get to the doctor’s office, she threw the mail on the kitchen table and walked back out of the apartment, locking the door behind her.

  Dr. Vistane’s office was located at Thirty-eighth and Lancaster. A clinic well known for performing abortions and counseling young pregnant teens, it sat right on the corner. Daisy signed in and let the receptionist know that she was there for an emergency visit. After thirty minutes of waiting, Daisy heard her name being called. She was taken upstairs, and after a nurse took her weight, temperature, and blood pressure, she was placed in a room, given a plastic cup, and told to give a urine sample. Then she was to undress completely below the waist, lie on the table, and cover up with a paper covering. A few minutes later Dr. Vistane came into the room. He spoke with Daisy about how she was feeling and upon examination told Daisy to dress and that he’d be back in a few minutes, after testing some culture samples.

  It turned out that there were quite a few diagnoses made that day.

  “Daisy, you’re having what we consider to be a herpes initial outbreak.”

  “What?”

  “You have contracted the herpes virus, and the soreness and burning sensation are a result of the initial outbreak. It’s right at the tip of the opening of your vagina. It’s going to be painful and sore for at least the next three to possibly five days. After which it will form a scab and disappear. Usually, patients will have their initial outbreak and…” The doctor looked up from his chart to find Daisy in a pool of tears.

  “Herpes?” she asked.

  “Yes, Daisy, I am sorry.”

  “But how? When? I don’t understand.”

  “Well, sometimes it can be hard to pinpoint when, but the virus can lie dormant. Medically, they say anywhere from two to twenty days, even sometimes longer once you’ve been exposed to the virus. And your outbreak can last for several weeks. Once the outbreak heals, the virus will lie dormant in your nervous system until it re-emerges and you have your next outbreak, which could be one month from now or twenty years from now. Stop crying, this isn’t the end of the world. Millions of people are diagnosed with this virus, and after they’re diagnosed, some never have a recurrence again; others do. Daisy, it’s not the end of the world.”

  Daisy’s mind scrambled. Lies dormant for weeks, may or may not come back again. There’s no telling who passed this to me. Thirty days. She had slept with twenty or so men in the last thirty days alone. What the fuck am I going to do now?

  “When is the last time you had intercourse?”

  She couldn’t help but think of nasty Felix and the last time she was at the Honey Pot, and how Calvin fired her and then she went home and had sex with Reggie, and then had sex with Reggie practically every day thereafter. Oh, my god, what if I’ve given him herpes too. What if he has it now. Oh my god, if I done gave him this herpes virus, he’ll kill me, just kill me. What am I going to do? I can’t tell him, I can’t tell anybody. Daisy wasn’t even listening to the doctor. She was too preoccupied with her own thoughts, trying to figure out who had burned her and passed her this horrid, dreaded virus. Not to mention, her mind was swirling with the thought that she had passed the virus on to Reggie, and lord only knew what would happen, and the worst of it all was that he’d probably never speak to her again.

  “So, I want to start you on some medication. You take it by mouth twice a day. And here’s a prescription for some ointment. It will help with the burning and itching you may have. Now, on a lighter side, you also have trichomoniasis.”

  “Trick-a-what?” she said, looking at the doctor as if she couldn’t take any more diagnoses.

  “It’s vaginal bacteria, also transmitted sexually. You really need to be careful with trichomoniasis because once we treat you, if you have sex with an infected person who has not been treated you will catch the bacteria again. It’s really important that we get your partner treated.”

  Reggie has trichomoniasis; I can’t tell him that. I gave it to him. He’ll kill me if I tell him, and probably hate me, but definitely never want to be with me again.

  The doctor watched as she sat silent and still. Dr. Vistane wasn’t sure if she was even hearing him.

  “Even if you’re not going to have sex with him again, he needs to know that he has had exposure to the bacteria and possibly the herpes virus.”

  “I can’t believe this,” said Daisy, as the doctor continued to explain the diagnosis. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m positive. So, if you can make a list for me, I will contact all the people that you have been in contact with.”

  A list. I’d be here all night and day. No, we ain’t doing no lists, that’s on them. They’ll figure it out, just like I did, sitting in the clinic.

  “Um, no, I don’t know how to contact the guy,” Daisy lied.

  “It was only one guy that you’ve been sexually active with in the last thirty to forty-five days?”

  “Yes, just one guy,” said Daisy, lying through her teeth, as she wiped her tears from her eyes.

  “Okay, wait…” said Dr. Vistane as he saw Daisy getting up from the table. “I’m not done yet.”

  “The
re’s more?” asked Daisy.

  “Yeah, there’s more,” said Dr. Vistane, shaking his head yes and looking as if he hated to be the bearer of all this bad news. “You are pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “Yup, by the looks of it, six weeks,” said Dr. Vistane.

  “Pregnant?”

  “I take it this is an unwanted pregnancy?” asked Dr. Vistane.

  “Yes, I can’t believe it… I just can’t believe it. I’m on the pill, though,” she said, knowing that there had to be some kind of medical mistake.

  “I understand, but the pill is only 99 percent effective. There are those, like you, who unfortunately are that pregnant one percent. Would you like to come in and speak to one of the nurses about pregnancy counseling or other possible alternatives?”

  Daisy couldn’t believe it. Not another abortion. She herself didn’t know if she could take another one; the sound of the machine alone terrified her. There has to be another way.

  “Daisy, would you like counseling?”

  “Yes, I want an abortion. I don’t want this baby. I want an abortion.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive, just please, Dr. Vistane, please make the appointment for me.”

  “Okay, no problem. I’ll take care of everything. Come on, stop crying. Everything is going to be okay now. You’ll be just fine, Daisy, just fine. I’ll take good care of you.”

  Detective Honing and Detective Walters sat in the Honey Dipper looking every bit like needles in a haystack.

  “Can I get another?” asked Honing, realizing a new waitress was serving him.

  “Whatchoo drinking?”

  “Um, Coke,” said Honing, unable to take his eyes off her perfect double Ds.

  “Wow,” said Walters as he looked the waitress up and down. “This is fucking torture, man. I love it though. I swear my wife is really in for it when I get home tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah, well one of these broads is in for it right here, right now, when I get off work,” said Honing, wishing he could tear the waitress’s back out.

  “Hey, there he is,” the waitress said, as the detectives looked over their backs to the front doorway. “Hey, Calvin, these gentlemen are here to see you,” she said as she walked away to the other end of the bar.