Weekend Write-In Story Collection

Alibi Bye-Bye

In 500 words, tell a story in which an alibi is scrutinised. Written for the Weekend Write-In Challenge: "Alibi" — 2-4 December 2016

Sometimes bomb-proof alibis bomb.

Alibi Bye-Bye

Mick was startled by the loud, rapid pounding on the door. "Hold your horses, I'm coming."

Loud knocking resumed as he approached. "I said I'm coming." He undid the deadbolt, unlocked the door and opened it to the security chain to see a badge.

"You're coming downtown, Mick."

"What for? I aint done nothing this time."

"Come on, Mick. The Chief told us to round up the usual suspects."

"I thought they only did that in the TV shows and pulp novels." He undid the chain, opened the door and smirked as he looked around. "Are we on hidden camera?"

"Not this time, Mick." The three police officers barged into the condo suite. "John, you start in the bedroom, Bill..."

"Let me see your search warrant," Mick interrupted as he blocked John.

The three officers stopped, and the sergeant muttered, almost to himself, "Too many coaching lawyers." He turned to Mick. "Alright, grab your hat and coat, you're coming with us."

"You have an arrest warrant?"

"That one we have."

"Let me grab my phone. I need to call my lawyer."

The sergeant muttered again, then nodded. "Be quick about it."

<><><>

An hour and a half later, Mick sat in a small room with his lawyer, Randy McSleese. "This one wasn't me. I've not pulled a job in a long while. Not since I got out. Must have been one of Mack's boys."

"Where were you yesterday afternoon?" Randy looked at his notes. "At two forty-five?"

A smile grew on Mick's face and he shifted in his chair. "I was in a room at the Red Velvet with this dame I met on the internet. God, she's a hot one."

"What's her name?"

"What? So you can mow my hay? Why should I tell you?"

"You need to establish an alibi, Mick. The MO on this fits you to a tee."

"I told you Mack's boys have been copying my style." Mick thought again of yesterday afternoon's romp and sighed. "Her name's Wanda Duit."

"And her real name?"

"Don't know, but she sure did wanda. I did the motel's special afternoon rate, but I got a receipt this time."

"The four-hour rate? You could have paid, then gone to hit the bank. You need something more solid. You've given too many fallacious ones in the past to have the judge believe this one. Can you trace this Wanda woman?"

"What the eff is fal-whatever. Keep them highfalutin' words for the corporate sleaze."

"Means false."

"Why didn't you say that? This story ain't cockamamie, though. We were together from one until four thirty. I have the internet chat that led us together, look." He thumbed his phone on, went to the site and showed Randy the conversation.

Randy wrote down the pertinent information. "I'll have our hackers track her identity. Will she corroborate your story?"

"Cor what?"

"Support?"

"Yeah, she should. She was real friendly with me."

<><><>

Later that evening Randy called. "Not going to be easy, Mick. Wanda's the judge's wife."