CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN
I wondered if Swiecki was about to tell me
that he would ask the questions. It would have been
classic. Instead he took a deep breath, blew it out, and
took a different tack.
“Here’s what we know. Mr. Limm was killed
less than three blocks from where he lived. It was on a
side street. We haven’t been able to find any witnesses.
It could have been a random act but we don’t think
so.”

“Why is that?” asked Matt.
“Whoever killed Mr. Limm wanted to make
sure he was dead.”
I leaned forward slightly but caught myself. I
have to control my ghoulish side when with mortals,
and this situation could be deemed worthy of
particular attention as far as keeping my unsavory
impulses in check.
“He was stabbed multiple times and once he
was on the ground the killer sliced his throat.”
I sucked in my breath sharply and sat back
in my chair at the thought of all that blood going
to waste. I realized that feeding would be essential
tonight. Detective Swiecki misinterpreted my reaction.
“I’m sorry to be so graphic, Mr. Windham. I
didn’t mean to upset you.”
I fluttered a hand as though dismissing the apology. Now I was ‘on’. I promoted the detective.
“It’s okay, Lieutenant. It’s just difficult seeing Danny that way in my mind.”
“Detective.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m a detective. You called me lieutenant. I could live with the pay grade but not with the headaches.”
“My mistake. I got confused there for a moment,” I said. “It won’t happen again.”
“Not a problem. Not a problem at all,” said Swiecki.
“So, was this a robbery? Or possible robbery attempt?” asked Matt.
“Doesn’t look like it. The victim’s wallet with credit cards and about eighty dollars in cash were in his jacket pocket, along with his Blackberry,” Swiecki said. “Counselor, you know the drill and you know I have to ask this next question.”
Matt must have sensed the dissipation of tension and the winding down of the interrogation. My response to the description of Danny’s demise removed me from the list of possible suspects.
“Ask,” said Matt.
“Mr. Windham, where were you at 7:30 this morning?”
“Sleeping. Alone. I know it’s not much of an alibi, but it is true. There’s that going for it.”
“It’s fine, sir. I’m sure it will check out.”
“My client has a reputation for being a late riser. Very late.”
“Yeah. I heard that already a couple times.”
I shrugged.
“It’s why I chose a life in the theater.”
Swiecki stood up and thanked us for coming in. He gave us each his card. “What happens to your show now, Mr. Windham?”
“We delay the first preview for a few days out of respect for Danny and for the feelings of the actors, who are going to be distraught, to put it mildly. Delays are expensive but this one is unavoidable. It’s the least we can do, though. Then, next week sometime, we have our first performance in front of an audience. You’re welcome to attend as my guest. Bring your wife if you like.”
Swiecki unconsciously thumbed his wedding band as he said, “With ticket prices on Broadway what they are these days, somebody might misconstrue the act of me accepting free tickets.”
“Well, it would give you a chance to see Danny’s work firsthand. It might give you some insight.”
“Hopefully we’ll have the killer in custody by the time your show opens. But I’ll keep your offer in mind, just in case.”
“You’d be doing us a favor, detective. Previews let us see what’s working in the show and what isn’t. For that we need an audience. You’re more than welcome to see the show as my guest during previews. Once we open and the reviews are in, everybody pays.”
“Except me,” said Matt.
“Except Matt, of course.”
I chuckled.
Swiecki thanked us again for coming in as he led us to toward the desk where we met him almost an hour earlier.
“It’s a freak thing that you caught me here. I came in early tonight. My shift actually starts a couple hours from now.”
“I’m glad it worked out,” said Matt.
Between the door of the cop shop and the car, I said to Matt, “That guy won’t catch Danny’s killer. I’m sure of it.”
“Don’t let his act fool you. These guys are never what they seem.”
“That’s true of most of us, isn’t it?”