was going to sue her for bringing charges against you?’ Gibbons asked.
‘I was talking about perjury in a deposition. I didn’t mention filing a civil suit against her. Now that she’s worth over five million I guess it’s an option.’
Dalton asked, ‘Some people tell us that when you tried to talk to Johnna Masterson that evening she was afraid of you.’
‘She wasn’t afraid of me. She just didn’t want to talk.’
‘Why do you think that is?’
Kip Dalton knew the reason. What he wanted was to know if I would try to conceal things. I also knew that his information came second-hand. Without a warrant the university would not hand over the evidence Blackwell had collected. That left me in the awkward position of explaining the charges. As these appeared to be frivolous without the diary, I had to bring that up too. I could see by their expressions they knew nothing about it.
‘Is it possible for us to have a copy of the diary?’
Gibbons asked.
What was the point? The whole thing was a lie.
‘Why would she write about an affair that didn’t exist?’
I explained my history with Buddy Elder. At the time I would have described my demeanour as animated. In retrospect, I’m sure both Gibbons and Dalton imagined that I was coming unhinged. Like all madmen, I was intent upon proving myself sane and reasonable. The effect vacillates between paranoia and psychosis.
Lt. Gibbons listened patiently to my explanation, then asked about the material in the diary. I tried to make light of it. It was a complete fabrication after all. ‘Nothing too serious, just graphic sexual encounters between the two of us in my office. Some abusiveness thrown in.’
‘What kind of abusiveness?’
‘It doesn’t matter. It was all a lie. There was no affair!’ She wanted to know anyway, and I told her.
‘Fellatio. She didn’t want to perform it in my office, and I forced her to do it.’ I laughed, conscious of the inappropriateness of such a response but unable to stop myself. It was the abusiveness, I realized, that attracted Leslie Blackwell and Lt. Gibbons. Buddy Elder had understood his audience. A sexual encounter? It happens. Reluctance to co-operate? Understandable.
Forcing it? That crossed the line. In Buddy Elder’s script I was the pig all women hated.
Officer Gibbons said to Detective Dalton, ‘I want to look at this diary.’ To me Gibbons said, ‘I’m still having trouble understanding how Johnna Masterson got involved in this.’
‘So am I,’ I said.
They kept nudging the inquiry forward, and I kept filling in the blanks. Nothing got better. As Lt. Gibbons quietly entered into the official record bodacious ta-tas, I realized I could delude myself no longer. I was not a friendly witness. I was The Man.
Still I pressed on. I had no choice. Buddy Elder had set this thing in motion, and my only chance was to describe the diabolical intricacies of it. It was a bit like explaining chess to a poker player. When I had finished, Dalton summarized for both of them. ‘That’s a fairly elaborate scheme, Dr Albo.’
I nodded enthusiastically. It was indeed.
‘Why would he do that?’
I said I had no idea.
‘Did you make a threat the other night on the telephone?’ Lt. Gibbons asked.
I hesitated. They had the cashier’s statement. ‘Yes,’
I said. ‘I did.’
Lt. Gibbons pressed for a clarification. ‘You threatened Mr Elder, not Johnna Masterson?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘What did the two of you talk about, if you recall?’
Dalton asked.
‘Nothing, really. He said something about the university giving me a letter of censure instead of firing me.
That was the rumour he had heard at the funeral home, anyway, and then he said he hoped nothing happened to change their minds.’ The detective didn’t quite follow me, so I explained. ‘The only thing that makes sense to me is he knew Johnna was going to be missing. He was telling me something was going to happen.’
‘You think she was there during the conversation?’
Gibbons asked.
‘Buddy knew I was at Denny’s. How could he have known that if he didn’t set the whole thing up? I didn’t even tell my wife where I was going.’
‘So you’re saying only you and Johnna Masterson knew you were planning to meet at Denny’s that night?’
‘And Buddy Elder.’
Dalton thanked me for coming in. I had sure given them a lot to think about. I nodded dumbly, trying to assure myself the interview had not gone as badly as it felt. Maybe they did understand. Maybe they were reluctant to let me know the real suspect was Buddy Elder. Such are the lies we tell ourselves after our worst moments.
As he walked me out of the building and over to my truck, Kip seemed almost sympathetic again. It was hard for a man to say anything these days without getting in trouble with someone. I grumbled my agreement, feeling vindicated – one man of the world talking to another. He shook his head and looked out across the city. He remembered the days when sex was just sex. Now, well if they could put the President of the United States on a witness stand and grill him for eight hours on national TV about a blow job, no one was safe!
I measured that a couple different ways and decided the reference was to false testimony, not consensual sex. He might still be giving me the benefit of the doubt on the disappearance of Johnna Masterson, but he sure as hell believed I’d had myself a stripper from The Slipper. As far as I could see, that was a fact as unassailable as gravity.
I was already inside my truck, ready for the getaway when the second shoe dropped. ‘You’ve given us a whole new perspective on this thing, Dr Albo. I mean to say, we could spend quite a bit of energy chasing down everything you’ve told us. Now I’m ready to do it, if that’s what it takes, but I know the sheriff would feel a lot better if you gave us some assurance.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It would help the investigation if you’d agree to take a polygraph.’
‘I need to talk to my lawyer about that,’ I answered after a moment. I was feeling trapped, accused, and more than a little manipulated. On the other hand, I really didn’t have anything to fear from a machine designed to uncover lies.
‘Do that! I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured.’
‘No pressure,’ I said. ‘I’ll call you next week and let you know.’
‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you come in Monday afternoon, around three o’clock, if that’s good for you, and we can take the test. If your lawyer thinks it’s a bad idea, just give us a call Monday morning and we’ll cancel the thing. Is that fair?’
‘Sure. Plenty fair.’ Kip Dalton slapped the side of my truck and smiled. For some reason I had made him a very happy man. I worried about that all the way home.
Chapter 24
When Igot back to the farm Molly told me I had a few calls to make. I was curious at her ironic tone until she handed me seven messages: three from the television stations, two newspapers, my agent and Gail Etheridge. I called my agent first. Some folks in Hollywood, he said, were looking at Jinx for a TV series. Was I agreeable to the idea?
Sounded great, I said. We talked about things in general. How was I doing? What was I writing? I lied, as Walt had put it, like a villain.
When I finished with the call, I told Molly the good news. Over the years we had had enough heartbreaks and
