“Now,” he said, “think long and hard about this next question before you answer, and I remind you that you, sir, are still under oath. On Saturday night a week ago, were you following Captain Skipper between the hours of twelve thirty and one thirty A.M.?”
I started to answer, but he continued. “All I am looking for here is a yes or no answer. Were you following him during the time that the county medical examiner says Russ Maddox was murdered?”
“Yes, sir, I was,” I said, followed by an audible gasp from the courtroom.
“So you are saying that you are his alibi then, sir?”
“Yes, sir, I guess that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Nothing further, Your Honor,” Hamilton said, and it sounded like “Nuthin’ futha, ya hona.”
I was Skipper’s alibi. That was the kicker. I looked over at Skipper, seated with Hamilton at the defendant’s table. When he caught my eye, he winked and smiled widely, showing me all of his yellow tobacco stains. He looked happier than I had ever seen him look. He was now more convinced than ever of the myth of his invulnerability. But I knew better.
My entire appearance in court had taken less than fifteen minutes. I was exhausted. I went home to rest-but not for long. I had to figure out whodunit, so I went in search of clues. The only problem was I couldn’t find them because of the vigor with which Laura and Anna had cleaned my trailer.
I looked high and low. I searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, and every nook and cranny. Still I couldn’t find them. I called Anna at the institution.
“How did your day in court go?” she asked immediately. I told her, but she knew already. After all, this was Pottersville.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I said, “but I’m feeling felinely and trying not to get killed.”
She thought for a minute, “So, what are you so curious about?”
“Very good. I didn’t think you were going to get that.”
“Scary, isn’t it? So, how can I help with your feline pursuits?”
“You can tell me where you put the videos that were on top of my TV.”
“The Disney tapes?” she asked immediately.
“Yes.”
“I took them to watch. I’ve heard how good Aladdin and The Lion King are. I wanted to watch them. You don’t mind, do you?”
I laughed. “Those are the tapes from Maddox’s private collection.”
“What? He hid them in Disney cases? That’s sacrilege! You don’t think there could be children on them do you?”
“I hadn’t considered that, but considering what he hid them in, it is a possibility. I need to watch them.”
“I’ll bring them over this afternoon. I want to watch them too. Does that make me a pervert?” she asked sincerely.
“No, a voyeur or very curious.”
“Either one of those sins?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But like most things, they can be. It all has to do with the circumstances and what’s going on in your heart.”
“So what you’re saying is that as long as I don’t lust after Russ Maddox’s fat, hairy ass, I’m probably safe.”
“In which case, you’re very safe,” I said.
“Very,” she said and then hung up the phone.
When Anna arrived, she found me asleep on the couch. When I opened my eyes, she was standing over me saying, “Ricky. Ricky. Wake up.”
“Ricky?” I asked. “Who’s Ricky?”
“Ricky Raccoon,” she said and started laughing.
“Cute,” I said. “Very cute. Did you bring the tapes?”
“You mean the wonderful world of Maddox’s Magic Kingdom?”
“The very same.”
I put the tapes in a stack on top of the television, which was an old, thirteen-inch number on an old-fashioned TV stand with a VCR on the uneven shelf below it.
The first tape was the one I had already seen. It showed Maddox and Johnson together again. We didn’t watch very much of it-I had seen it, and Anna wanted to see as little as possible of it. I couldn’t blame her. We watched roughly two minutes of it. They were the last two minutes though, and when I ejected the tape, I noticed that there was at least three quarters of the tape unused.
I put the tape back in and began to fast forward it. The snow on the screen looked no different in the fast forward mode than it did in the normal play mode, with the exception of the lines at the top and bottom of the screen that looked like wrinkles. After about five minutes or so, I ejected the tape, concluding that there was nothing else on it.
The second tape was of Maddox alone. When the first image flickered on the screen, it was of Maddox’s bare chest. It was roughly the color of cotton and covered with white hair, which added to that comparison. He was obviously leaning over the camera to it on. He then backed up, bent down, and looked right into the lens. His fat, out-of-focus face filled the screen. I could see the reflection of the red recording light flashing on his left cheek. He turned and headed toward the bed, and the light could then be seen flashing on his other left cheek.
Waiting on the bed for him were a remote control and a jar of Vaseline. He pointed the remote in the direction of the camera, and the TV began to play. The sounds of sex began to fill the speakers. They sounded as if they were coming from his TV, and because the video camera was so close to the TV the sound was distorted, but it was still unmistakable. It sounded like the tape we had just watched. Russ was watching himself with Johnson.
He removed the lid from the Vaseline jar, scooped out a heaping amount, and began to masturbate. He thrust hard up and down and moaned with pleasure. It was a sick, contrived moan, like he needed to hear himself make it. It made me feel sick.
I suddenly became very uncomfortable. I looked over at Anna. She seemed fine, but if we were watching a tape of her funeral, she would probably look the same way.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked.
“Slightly,” I said.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. This just seems so personal, even more personal than watching two people have sex.”
“There’s more to it than that,” she said. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Do you?” she asked.
“Do I what?”
“Do you, you know . . .” she said and nodded toward the TV.
“We are not having this conversation,” I said. I then added with a smile, “It really is the safest form of sex, you know.”
“Just one question,” she said.
“What?”
“Do you ever think about me when you do it?”
I choked and stuttered as I tried to speak, which was admission enough for her. She smiled.
I smiled.
“I think that’s enough of that one,” I said and stopped the tape. I pushed the fast forward button. This time it fast forwarded the tape without previewing what was on the screen. I pushed play again. There was nothing, just snow.
“You know, you are a very attractive guy; single, smart, sensitive, and to top it all off, you are very spiritual. I know you find me attractive, and we are alone in your trailer. Why don’t you seize the opportunity?”
“Besides the fact that you’re married and I look like Ricky Raccoon?”
“Yeah, besides that,” she said.
“I would never . . .”
“That’s precisely my point. You’re different from Maddox. In fact, you’re different from any man I know. I would never do this with any other man. I would never talk this way with any other man, but you, I can trust.”
“Don’t trust me too much. It might get you in trouble.”
“I’m not saying you don’t have a healthy libido. It’s just that you are to be trusted.”
“Don’t believe that,” I said.
“I do. I’m not saying you don’t have your struggles like everyone else, but I can tell things about people, especially men. I know you. I trust you.”
“Do you trust Merrill like that?”
“I trust Merrill, but for different reasons.”
We turned our attention back to the tapes. The third tape was Maddox and Johnson again. It was shot in black and white, which, because of the contrast between the two men, took on an artistic look.