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Story: Corpse at Captain's Seat
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Did you hear her go downstairs?”
“No. I must have been asleep by then.”
“Did you leave your room at any time?”
Freddie shook his head. “After I talked to Sid—my agent—I went to bed. It’s not like you can do a lot in the dark.” He added a little bitterly, “Not without company.”
If Oscar could hear everything going on in Freddie’s room, the reverse had to be true.
“Mm.” Ellery looked apologetic.
Freddie scowled. “I mean, it’s not like— It was over between me and Tosh a long time ago. But I still love her, of course. She’s a great girl. I want her to be happy. And Oscar’s a nice guy. But no way isthatgoing to last. Not in a million years.”
“Yeah,” Ellery said absently. “You can never predict what attracts people to each other.”
Freddie laughed. “That’s the truth! You’re the last person I imagined would end up with a cop. Let alone the chief of police.”
“I think Jack’s the most shocked of anybody,” Ellery deadpanned, and that was strictly for Jack’s benefit.
“Anyway, listening to the carnival next door didn’t put me in the greatest mood, so I just went to sleep.”
“Before you fell asleep, did you hear anybody else leave their room?”
Freddie slowly shook his head, but said, “Maybe Oscar? I heard someone walk down the hallway. It could have been Chelsea. Or it could have been Oscar. I think it was right next door. I’m not sure.”
Ellery studied him. “Right next door? Then it could have been Tosh?”
Freddie stared at him. “No. Not Tosh. It was probably Chels.”
Probably.
Freddie added, “Seeing that Chelsea ended up downstairs.”
“True.”
Freddie grimaced. “Anyway. That was it for me. I don’t remember another thing until I heard that scream this morning.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t remember where I was for a second.”
“I know the feeling.” Ellery said slowly, “Well, you’re the expert. Can you think of anything else I should ask or that Jack should know?”
Freddie’s expression brightened. “Beyond accounting for our movements, no. We know who our perp is. Now it’s just a matter of finding him—before he strikes again.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Thatbefore he strikes againcomment, worries me,” Ellery admitted, wishing he’d worn ear muffs. The wind was bitterly cold.
He was on his cell phone, standing in the garden—which currently resembled the courtyard of an ice palace—watching Watson fall into snow drift after snow drift.
“Yeah, I don’t care much for that.” Jack sounded bleak—and very far away. “Are you thinking we should be looking closely at Freddie?”
“I haven’t even talked to Flip or Lenny yet. But... He did seem pretty disingenuous through a lot of that interview. He was definitely considering throwing Oscar under the bus, until he realized it meant throwing Tosh, too. I think he still loves her.”
“Maybe. As much as a narcissist is capable of.”
A lump of snow fell from a tree and splattered Watson’s head. Watson looked indignantly around for the culprit.
Ellery said, “You think Freddie’s a narcissist?”
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