Justified Conspiracy

Chapter Five Witness

Nancy walked up the long pathway to Mr. Nec’s house. He lived in the country, but he was in the city on the night of the murder. While the murder was reported to have taken place in the big city at eight o’clock p.m., Mr. Nec’s police report was in contrast to that fact.

A pot-bellied, silver-haired man opened the door and smiled at her. Nancy smiled back. “Mr. Nec?”

“You, the little girl I spoke to on the phone?”

“That’s right, and thank you so much for giving me this interview.”

“Come on in. Ethel will fetch you a glass of her homemade lemonade.”

Ethel had short curly ash brown hair, a long face, and big hazel eyes. She was also wearing a long cotton dress.

After a glass of lemonade and a few Windmill cookies, Mr. Nec began to tell his eyewitness story. He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. Then, he let it out slowly. “I was in the city ‘cause my sister was gettin married. She’s too old. I told her, but she never had any sense.”

Ethel entered the living room and sat next to Nancy on the couch. She smiled warmly.

“They’re gettin divorced too. I tried to warn her. She wants what Ethel and I got, but we been married forty-five years, an ya can’t do that overnight.”

Nancy smiled. “Forty-five years, that’s nice.”

He cleared his voice. “Ethel, fetch me another lemonade. You want some more?”

“No, I’m fine, thank-you.” Nancy watched Ethel jump right up, take his glass, and rush off to the kitchen.

“Now, I was visitin my sister. She was gettin married to Ed, a man who wanted her money. I told her, but she never has any sense. The reception was boring, so I went for a drive.”

“At what time?”

“It was exactly nine o’clock. I remember looking at my watch. I drove up to this little store for some cigars. Eh, Ethel, fetch me one ah my cigars.”

Ethel jumped up from her seat, rushed out of the room, and ran back in again with a cigar. She tore open the wrapper and handed it to him.

He gave her a look of disgust. “Ethel, what good is my cigar if you don’t get me the lighter?”

“Oh, oh, ho, ho,” she laughed and ran off to get the lighter.

He shook his head. “I think she’s gettin senile.”

Once he had his cigar lit, the room full of smoke, and Nancy coughing, he continued. “I saw this blue car drive up, a Cutlass. This woman got out. She looked beat up. Her lip was bleedin and she was cryin. She tried to tell me somethin.”

“Where were you?”

“I was on my way into the store. She grabbed my arm. Show her Ethel, how she grabbed me. Ethel knows ‘cause I showed her a bunch a times.”

Ethel quickly grabbed Nancy’s left arm and gave it a tight squeeze. She looked over to her husband.

“Yank it up a bit Ethel. There, that’s about how she grabbed me. Then, she shoved me a bit.”

Nancy braced herself, but then relaxed when Mr. Nec yelled to his wife to let her arm go. She rubbed her arm for a second and resumed writing in her notebook.

“She said, ‘I need help’ and she said that over an over. Her voice was kinda high. Ethel, talk in that high voice that you can do. You know the one you do when you’re tryin to sound like the minister’s wife.”

Ethel smiled. In a high voice she said, “Let’s give the choir a big hand brothers an sisters.”

“Ethel, say what that woman said,” he ordered.

“I need help.”

“No, Ethel, not in your voice. In that high voice.”

Ethel finally performed to her husband’s satisfaction. He smiled. “There, that’s how she sounded. Just like that.”

“Mr. Nec, what happened next?”

“She fell on me. I had to hold her up. Ethel...”

“Mr. Nec, I understand.”

“Good. Ethel, fetch me my slippers.”

Nancy let out a sigh. Ethel sprang up to fetch his slippers.

“I held her. Then this man drove up in a white pickup truck. Ugly color for a pickup. Red or blue’s 'bout the only good colors for a pickup.”

“What did the man look like?”

“Tall an thin. He had a hood on. Some sort a joggin outfit. It was shiny black. He had a mustache. That’s 'bout all I can remember 'bout him. He took her an left.”

“Took her?”

“Drug her into the truck an drove off.”

“What did you do?”

“I went into the store an told the man behind the counter, an he called the cops.”

“Then what happened?”

“The cops came an arrested me for drivin drunk. I’d had some beers at the reception, a couple shots, but I was fine."

“What about the woman?”

“The cops told me they’d look for her, but they didn’t believe me. They thought I made it up. I told um she got out of that blue car. Couple days later, two cops from the city came to my house an wanted to know what I saw that night at the store. I told um again, an this time they was listenin, but it was too late. On the news, they’d already said that she was murdered.”

“Do you know why your testimony wasn’t used at the trial?”

“What I said didn’t match up to what the police found. Somethin 'bout the time not bein right, an they said my bein drunk at the time wouldn’t do the man any good.”

“The man, do you mean Philip Securd?”

“Yeah. It was his lawyer that didn’t want to use me.”

“Are you sure that the woman you saw and held that night was Jane Fellow?”

“Oh, yeah. It was her. When they showed her picture on the news, I told Ethel. Didn’t I Ethel? I said Ethel, that’s the woman that was in the store parking lot the night I got arrested.”

Ethel nodded her head enthusiastically. Nancy closed her notebook and handed Mr. Nec a release form. “This is just in case I use your report in the book. I’m not certain that it will be used.”

“Why not?” he asked sounding offended.

“Oh, I’ll use it. I meant, sometimes the publisher tightens things up a bit and cuts stuff down and might delete something.”

“Ethel, fetch me my pen.”

“Here,” Nancy said quickly, handing him hers.”

“No, no, no, I have to use my pen. Ethel knows that. Hurry up Ethel.”

After he signed the form, he held onto it. “Am I gonna be paid anything?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He held the form out to her. She raised her arm to take it, but he pulled it away before she could grasp it.

“Ya see, I asked ‘cause no one gave me nothin last time. I didn’t testify, so they didn’t pay me anything, an I was out twenty dollars ‘cause of it.”

“Twenty dollars?”

“That’s what my shirt cost.”

“Your shirt?”

“The one that got blood on it. I told ya, I had to hold on to her.”

“What?”

“Oh, I didn’t. Those kinda shirts absorb like the devil. They make good rags.”

“You still have it?”

“Maybe. If I do, it’s out in the garage.”

“If you have it, I’ll buy it from you.”

“He leaned forward in his chair. “Fer what?”

“Oh, I’d just like to have it.”

“Fer what?”

“Fer what?” she repeated.

“Fer what price?” he asked sounding agitated.

“Oh. What do you want for it?”

“I want what I paid fer it.”

“Absolutely Mr. Nec. That's not a problem.”

“Ethel, don’t just sit there honey. Ya heard us talkin. Get up an go find that shirt.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Ethel, would you like some help?” Nancy asked.

Ethel accepted her offer, and the two went into the garage where there were no vehicles just boxes, bags, and shelves full of junk.