The Obvious That Isn't
Kevin Gong
It was one of the easiest cases I had ever taken. The defendant, Fred Huntman, had
guilt written all over him. He had robbed several banks. He was wild throughout
the court proceedings. And he was the only one seen at the sight of Eva Smitherson's
murder.
And so I concluded, "So you see, ladies and gentleman of the jury, the defendant has
a criminal background, and it has been shown that the victim had been blackmailing
him. The defendant had both the motive and obviously the means to have strangled
the victim to death. The fact that he was seen near the scene of the crime just moments
after the apparent time of death further strengthens the people's case. Clearly,
if justice is to be served, you will arrive at a verdict of guilty."
Outside the courtroom, I saw the defendant. The media had surrounded the convicted
man.
Through the mass of reporters he managed to spot me and point an accusing finger.
"That guy over there doesn't even know the
meaning
of innocent. Why, I'm as innocent as his next-door neighbor!" With that the reporters
swerved over toward me for a reply.
"Mr. Baxworth, how do you respond to that?"
I looked over at Mr. Huntman, and calculatingly responded. "The jury has made its
decision. All the facts point towards his guilt. That's all I can say."
That night I saw the report on the news. And I heard something that rang in my ears.
"Why, I'm as innocent as his next-door neighbor!"
Nah. It was simple case. The guy killed his blackmailer. That was it. He was the
only one seen at the scene of the crime. How could he be innocent? At that moment
I heard my neighbor's sports car pulling up outside.
The bright headlights contrasted with the near pitch-black of my block. They disappeared
into my neighbor's garage. Strange, I thought, as I looked at my watch. Midnight.
My neighbor hadn't been getting home until this time all week. And I never saw
him in the morning anymore.
Oh well. It's his business.
I couldn't really sleep that night. I kept turning the facts over in my head. Fred
Huntman looked as guilty as could be. And yet his words made me think twice. "Why,
I'm as innocent as his next-door neighbor."
Actually, my neighbor had been acting pretty strangely...Nah...Well, what the hell.
Tomorrow's Saturday. I can do a little investigating.
The next morning I woke up to the sound of my neighbor's car starting. By the time
I was fully awake, I could see that he was gone.
Now was my chance.
After a quick breakfast, I sneaked into his yard.
Inside his house I found nothing. It looked as if my neighbor was going to leave
town - permanently.
Feeling even more suspicious, I began a very thorough search. Again, I found nothing.
It wasn't until I started to leave that I noticed the cleverly concealed airplane
ticket lying openly on his bed.
As I opened the ticket, my suspicions leapt from the back of my mind to the tip of
my tongue. He was leaving for Canada Sunday night. But "he" wasn't going to be
Jarvus Weatherbee, next-door neighbor anymore. Inside the ticket were a new driver's
license and credit cards - all with the name Marvin Weathers.
"Screech!!!" Jarvus had arrived.
I crept out the back door and tumbled through my yard gate, rose up suddenly, and
with one swift motion picked up a pair of clippers, closed the gate, and started
to clip.
Jarvus quickly got out of his car, but slowed suddenly as he saw me clipping. He
was a middle-aged man with a bald spot on his forehead. He lived in the fast lane,
though. What would drive him to murder? His face always looked so innocent. Now,
however, guilt covered his face like a blanket.
As he started for his door, I called to him. "Hi! Haven't seen you in awhile, Jarvus."
"Been busy," he said softly, desperately wanting to get inside his house.
I kept him nervous by adding, "Just convicted a guy of murder yesterday. He said
he was innocent - as innocent as my next-door neighbor."
With that he forced a laugh.
"I guess you'd better watch out for me and Oliver Wickens over there." He pointed
to my other next-door neighbor.
I turned and looked as Mr. Wickens, seated in a lawn chair and sipping a drink, waved
to us. By the time I turned back, Mr. Weatherbee was gone.
That night I was ready to follow Jarvus. His nightly car trips had become a ritual
for the past week. At 10 o'clock he left in his car. Sitting in my convertible,
I waited until I was sure he wouldn't notice me, and then started my car.
Twenty minutes into the trip I began to feel deja vu. I had been on this route too
many times in the last month. It was the route to the park - the scene of Eva Smitherson's
murder. I remembered - "They always return to the scene of the crime." But why would he? I kept following to find out.
He parked just outside of the park. Then he took a thin, long object out of his trunk.
I couldn't tell what it was - it was too dark.
My hands started to sweat. Why was I here? Shouldn't I just tell the police? I
was nervous, but I stayed.
The next morning I went down to the county jail and asked to talk with Mr. Huntman.
Mr. Huntman walked into the room and, when he saw me, broke into a frenzy. "What's
going on? Are you going to convict me of executing the President while in jail?
Or perhaps raiding Fort Knox?"
"Calm down. I just came to tell you something."
He calmed down.
"Remember you said you were as innocent as my next-door neighbor? Well, last night
my next-door neighbor was charged with murdering his drug-dealer. I followed him
last night and confronted him. He broke down and showed me where he had been burying
the body."
"So. It's an interesting story, but what has it got to do with me?"
"You forgot that most people have
two
next-door neighbors. My other next-door neighbor confessed this morning that he
murdered Eva Smitherson.
"What?"
"It's very simple. Miss Smitherson was the leader of the Blackmail Society of America,
which uses blackmail money to help the homeless. Well, my neighbor was being blackmailed
and he found all this out. So he waited in the park. Just after you left he strangled her."
"I - I just don't know what to say. How did anyone find out?"
"Your attorney discovered the Society. From that, it was fairly easy to find another
suspect."
"Well, I guess this means I'm free to go."
"That's right."
"Well. This is a relief. Oh yeah, I guess I should warn you." He snickered a bit.
"You'd better be careful."
"Why?"
"You failed to recognize that most people have 3 next-door neighbors. I'm sure you
have a neighbor behind your house - or should I say, a friendly neighborhood murderer?"
Copyright 1987 by Kevin Gong. Unauthorized duplication,
posting, or publication is strictly prohibited.
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