Friends till the End by Gloria Dank Read Free Book Online

state.
    He checked his list. Two more people to go. Freda Simms. Best friend of the deceased. And her boyfriend, Eddie Bloom. He looked at his watch and thought, I can interview both of them and still be home in time for dinner.
    The interview with Eddie Bloom was short and to the point. Eddie was a short, slight man with shiny dark hair and the face of an intelligent rodent. He said he had met those people only once or twice before. He was sorry about the lady, but he didn’t know anything. Freda would know. Yes, he had met her about a month ago, and frankly, he didn’t know her all that well either. She hadgotten drunk last night and he had driven her home. That was it. He didn’t think he’d be seeing too much of her. She was upset over her friend’s death, and upset women gave him a queasy stomach. He had a nervous stomach, Eddie did. He was a sensitive person and had to protect himself.
    Driving away, Voelker thought two things. One was that he believed Eddie when he said he knew nothing concerning Laura Sloane’s death. The other was that Eddie was a miserable little weasel.
    Freda was still in shock. During the course of the afternoon, she had been to the hospital, then to the Sloanes’ house, then back to her place, then to the Sloanes’ again. She had been comforting Isabel when what’s-his-name, her young friend, had arrived. Freda had tactfully gotten out of their way. Although they acted more like brother and sister than anything else, she had had time to notice. She had also seen Walter while she was at the house. He looked so awful … just awful. Like his world was collapsing. Of course the one thing she had to say about Walter was that he had always loved Laura. You couldn’t help but love Laura. Laura was …
    But that wasn’t the point. What was the point, Officer?
    That nice man Detective Voelker said gently that he would like to talk about the party.
    “Oh, the party,” said Freda. She lit a cigarette. “I don’t know. Am I wandering? You must forgive me. I really don’t know what I’m saying. What do you want to know about the party?”
    Had she seen anything unusual, he wanted to know. Anything out of the ordinary.
    “Well,” said Freda, “there was something a little strange.”
    What was that?
    “It was something that didn’t happen, rather than something that happened.”
    Detective Voelker looked politely inquiring.
    “It was Walter and Harry.” Freda gave a weary cackle, a faint echo of her usual robust laugh. “They’re always ateach other’s throats. Over the stupidest things, really. Like water resources in the Amazon, or something. I can’t keep track of it myself. But last night—nothing! No argument—nothing! I keep thinking of that, and wondering why. That old ass Harry was driveling on as usual about something, Beethoven, I think it was, and Walter didn’t say a word. Well, I ask you, why not?”
    The last two words were said almost belligerently.
    Voelker did not reply, and after a moment Freda said, “Maybe it was because he didn’t know anything about Beethoven. That’s possible. But it seemed significant, somehow.”
    Voelker nodded solemnly and wrote down,
Wandering. Drunk? Unreliable witness.
    Freda had not seen much else. She admitted candidly that she had been more than a little drunk. She smiled briefly when Voelker mentioned the name of her companion of the night before.
    “He’s a clown,” she said. “A professional clown. I like unusual men.”
    Yes, thought Voelker. You would. He looked at her hair, its unnatural color, and at the lines on her face. Inwardly he grimaced.
    “Laura was my best friend,” Freda was saying tiredly. “My best friend. We went everywhere, did everything. Traveled. Laura was fun, she was
alive,
she—” She shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a loss, Officer … a great loss …”
    Voelker asked whether she had seen Laura take the drink from her husband’s hand.
    Freda didn’t think so. No, she hadn’t.