Follow the Money - By Fingers Murphy Page 0,47

have something without knowing entirely what it was. “So you and Matt were over at Ken’s when Matt was arguing with Becky’s mom?”

“Yeah. We used to hang out over there all the time ‘cause Ken’s mom worked nights. So yeah, we were both there and Matt was going on about Becky this and Becky that and he wanted to go see her that night and blah, blah, blah. So he called over there and the old lady says Becky’s out, Matt calls her a liar, and the rest is history. Funny though, she got killed by her old man right after that. Everyone must have hated that old bitch.”

“So how do you know she was killed right after that?” My head was racing, trying to recall the details from the police reports, the 911 calls, Steele’s story, Becky’s story.

“Shit man, we were over there!” Kelly waved to the bartender for another Mickey’s. “Matt called me like twenty minutes after he left Ken’s and said that all hell was breaking loose over at Becky’s. You know, sirens, lights, cops everywhere, all kinds of crazy shit. He was like, ‘Dude, you gotta check this shit out!’ So Ken and I met him over there and we watched it all. There were people all over. Neighbors coming out of their houses, cars stopping. It was a madhouse.”

“So wait.” I put my palms out in front of me, trying to slow the information down somehow, trying to gather my thoughts. “So, Matt wasn’t at home the night of the murder. That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Fuck no. Matt wasn’t home that night. Matt was never home. He hated it there.” The bartender brought another Mickey’s over and set it on the table. “Look,” Kelly leaned in and whispered once the bartender was gone, “I know Matt told the cops he was home all night. Shit, why tell the truth? Why get involved? He made me swear to tell them the same damned thing. Ken too. I was nervous about it. Shit man, I was fifteen and this was a big time murder investigation, it was scary shit. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to lie.”

Kelly took a long pull from the beer, wiped his mouth, and smiled his big, toothless smile. “Funny thing is, I never had to. I couldn’t believe it. The cops never asked me a single question. Ken either. Nothing. No cops, no investigators, no PIs, nobody ever came around.” He took another drink and went on. “I figured I just lucked out. Hell, I was just a kid. But now I know a thing or two about cops and investigations.” He winked at me, “If you know what I mean. And I know that’s pretty fucking weird. These days somebody so much as takes a shit in this neighborhood and the cops come asking me questions.”

I sat there, stunned, dazed, trying to think of what to ask next. I wrote some meaningless notes on the legal pad, took a drink of my beer and spoke. “Okay, let’s back up. Now you and Matt are over at Ken’s house when Matt has this fight with Becky’s mom. Do you remember what time that was?”

“Ahhhhh.” He rubbed the top of his head and ran his hand down the back over his ragged pony tail. “Shit, well I don’t remember exactly, but it would have been ten or fifteen minutes before we left. Let me put it this way, Matt and I both left Ken’s at 8:30 to go home, so I’d say 8:15, 8:20, something like that.”

Kelly leaned into the corner of the booth. I wrote the times down and noted the corresponding events. “Why did you leave Ken’s?”

“His mom came home. She was usually out until two or three in the morning, but she was sick or something. That’s why I remember the time. We were watching TV and one show was over and another was about to begin. I remember thinking I could make it home before it started. Matt and I only lived like a minute away from Ken’s.”

I made more notes. We both drank more beer. “So you get home and Matt calls you?”

“Yeah, I’m watching TV and he calls and starts telling me about all kinds of cops and lights and shit over at Becky’s and told me I had to come check it out.”

“What time was that?”

“That was around 8:45. I remember because I looked at the clock and I remember thinking it would take me fifteen

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