Fred Limberg - First Murder

“Cool how?”

“Care packages for one thing. She’d cook these meals, like real meals like pot roast and gravy and drop them off for us.”

“And Christmas presents last year. I mean what mom gets her son’s roommate’s presents…”

“Nice ones, too. And birthdays, too.”

“So you’ve all lived together for a couple of years?”

“All but Sean. He took over Tiko’s lease this summer. Transferred from out west. LA.”

“Any idea when he might show up?” Tony checked his watch. He’d been there for more than two hours already.

“You never know with Stuckey.”

“He’s got a girlfriend.”

“More than one.”

Tony noticed the two share a quick look. Swenson frowned. Hong rolled his eyes. He wondered what that was about.

“I saw Sean Monday morning on campus, on the bridge actually.” Swenson offered.

“What time?”

“Had to be a little after noon. Classes were done. I was going over to the West Bank to hook up with some people.” Swenson hoped he had been helpful. It showed. Still, it wasn’t in the time frame Tony was curious about.

“So anyway, about the vic?” Tony regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Street cop talk did not work in this new gig. “I’m sorry guys.” They were glaring at him. Deanna Fredrickson wasn’t a ‘vic’ to them. She was their friend.

“It’s okay, detective. You didn’t know her, like Scotty said.” Hong shrugged. He was getting to like the detective.

“I’m getting to. I’d like to have known her.”

“We’d go over to their house. They have this great TV and sound system downstairs and a dish. We’d watch football and hoops.” Swenson said.

“And she’d feed us.” Hong looked like he appreciated that more than the skinny Swenson.

“She even bought beer.”

“In the summer she’d let us use the pool like anytime, like for parties.”

“Last summer she and a couple of her friends joined us. We had some girls with us and they just hung out. She was easy to talk to.” Swenson’s voice was quiet and thoughtful as he reminisced.

“Her friends, too?” Tony knew they would be talking to the friends later. He paid close attention.

“Yeah. Sure. There was this one woman, lemme see, Roxie. Right, Swennie?”

“She was a babe.” Tony noticed a little blush creep up Swenson’s neck.

“And this other woman, Erika, she was kind of like…”

“Also a babe.”

“A small lady, but not like a midget.”

“Not everything’s small.” Hong shot a frown toward Swenson.

“Okay… Sean .” Something was going on between them that Tony couldn’t get a handle on. Why did he call him Sean?Some roommate thing? He was glad they’d opened the door about the friends. He thought he remembered Mae talking about them. The husband definitely had. He decided to nudge a little.

“Sure, I get you. Mrs. Fredrickson was kind of a babe, too.” Swenson screwed up his face at that, and Hong rolled his eyes again. “What?”

“She was Scotty’s mom, dude.”

“Moms can not be babes. Major foul. Hit the escape button.” Tony thought of some of the pictures he’d seen in the house. Deanna had been a very attractive woman, definitely a babe in some of those pictures. Then he remembered her sightless surprised eyes, the knife in her chest, and the blood pooled on the floor. Too bad she hadn’t had an escape button then.

“This is so bogus. I mean, I just saw her last Friday.” Hong stared out a dirty window toward the street.

“At the house? At the Fredrickson’s?”

“Naw. She and her friend, uh…Karen. They stopped in to see if Scotty was here. Me and Sean were just hanging out, you know. Neat lady. This all sucks so bad.”

“Sorry. Hey, either of you have a cell number for Sean? I still have to talk to him.”

“Not me.” Swenson shrugged. That surprised Tony. A roommate didn’t have his cell number? Maybe they didn’t get along.

“I do somewhere,” Hong said and headed off to his room.

Tony made a note of Stuckey’s number and rose to leave. He told the young men that he’d probably need to talk to them again, that he’d enjoyed meeting them. Actually he had, he realized. Nice kids, in school, out of trouble and on their way somewhere in life. He’d seen too many young people headed in the opposite direction-down instead of up. Even in the midst of the tragedy that had been Deanna Fredrickson he felt some bit of hope. Now if their alibis willjust check out…

On the way to his car he veered to the house next door and rang the bell. A striking young woman-thin, blonde and smiling, finally answered it.

“Erin?” Tony asked tentatively.

“Do I know you?” She wide-eyed the badge he held up. Confused, maybe a little worried. The smile faded.

“Did you have a fight with your boyfriend Monday morning? Out here on the porch or in the yard?”

“Did someone complain?” Erin looked up and down the street.

“Do you remember what time it was?”

“Why?” She crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side.

Tony rubbed his face with one hand. “Erin, at some point one of us is going to have to answer a question instead of asking one. Did you know that?”

“What’s going on here?”

“See what I mean?” Tony had his charming smile working. The girl was disarmed.

“Why do the police care if Gregg and I had a fight?”

Tony was determined to keep up with her. “Did I say the police cared if you had a fight?”

“Am I in some kind of trouble?” Erin frowned.

“If you ask me one more question I’ll arrest you for blatant curiosity. Would you like that?”

“There’s no such thing…is there?” Tony laughed out loud. She still didn’t get it.

“What time Monday morning did you throw Gregg out?”

“8:30? Maybe 9:00?”

“You’re not sure?”

“What business is it of yours?” Erin shot back petulantly.

“What if I told you it would provide an alibi for a suspect in a murder investigation?”

“An alibi? What did Gregg do? Is he in jail or something?”

“Did I say this was about Gregg?”

“Who’s alibi? What murder?”

“What time, Erin?” Tony barked. Enough was enough. He needed to get things moving.

“8:30!”

“Thank you. Now see, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I am so confused.”

“I believe you. Thanks.” Tony walked away, leaving the girl shaking her head on the steps. He couldn’t resist, turned, and said over his shoulder, “If you’re on the outs with Gregg the guy next door, David, he thinks you’re hot.”

“Is he the big guy or the red head?” she called after him. He chuckled all the way to the car and halfway back to the station.

Scott Fredrickson Sr. sat on the edge of the bed, wearing the same crumpled slacks and dress shirt. He had what looked like two day’s growth of beard and a lifetime left of sadness on his face. Ray had gotten a call from Ted Lipka en route. Fredrickson’s plane had been held hostage on the Phoenix airport tarmac by a warning light in the cockpit that took over five hours to be resolved. Alibi confirmed.

That could be worth a cussin’, Ray thought, and it explained the odd, brutally late arrival time. Scott Fredrickson didn’t drive the knife into his wife’s heart. Ray had to keep open the possibility that he could have paid someone to have it done, but the more he heard from the distraught man the less he believed it could have happened that way.

Chilled refreshing October air was locked out of the hotel room. It was stuffy and close. It smelled of fear and sweat. Fredrickson shrugged when Carol asked if she could record the session. He signed off on his right to counsel and had yet to hesitate answering their questions in any manner.