“Alright mister. . .Gunther?”

“Guitner”

“Right, Mr. Guitner.  Let’s go over it again: tell us exactly what happened. How you got in here and what you found.”

They don’t believe me.  Freddie Guitner sat on the low sofa in Eddy’s living room, looking up at the two plain clothed policemen, who stood before him.  Freddie had to stretch his neck muscles to look directly into their eyes. At the moment, he wanted at all costs not to look shifty eyed but then worried whether gazing directly into the officers’ faces would look as if he were challenging them.  Wasn’t that also a classic characteristic of a killer?   . .which, of course, he wasn’t, but how could he convince them of that? He brushed aside the wisp of his unkempt white hair that had fallen over his eyes.  His neck felt exposed with all its old man’s wrinkles.  Like a chicken, he thought, waiting to be cut.  No they don’t believe me at all.  Heck I wouldn’t believe me if I were them.  Best to start over without saying “I already told you.”

“Well, like I told ya,” Oops, I didn’t want to say that.  “I got up this morning and thought I’d come down to check in on Eddy.”

“Eddy is Edith Wallmonger?”  The policeman in the tan jacket was taking down notes.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you say `come down’ because you live in the apartment upstairs?”  The other officer, balding and in a blue sports jacket, picked up the conversation.

“`Did I say `come down?’  Well it doesn’t matter, yes, that’s where I live. . .upstairs that is.”

“Go on.”

“Well, like I said,” Blast! “I mean, as I was saying, I came down to check in on Eddy on account of she’s been doing rather poorly recently.  Fact is we’ve both been not too well.  I was even worse than she for a while there.  At, any-rate, she didn’t answer the door, so I let myself in.”

“And how did you do that Mr. Guitner?”

“Eddy gave me a key several months back.”

“And Mrs. Wallmonger gives keys for her apartment to all her neighbors?” The Blue suited guy again.

“No!  Of course not!  What are you suggesting?”

“Not a thing, Mr. Guitner.”

“Yeah?  Well make sure you don’t.  Eddy is, was. . .a lady.”  Freddie suddenly found it hard to speak.  “Eddy and me, we’ve been an item for a while now.  You know, Eddy and Freddie.” He smiled briefly remembering the first time Carl had called them that. “Ask anybody in the neighborhood: Carl down in Carl’s Diner, he’ll tell ya.”

“Don’t worry Mr. Guitner; we’ll speak to Carl.  Just continue to tell us what happened.  You let yourself in and. . .?”

“Well, I let myself in and looked around.  I found Eddy in her bed, thought she looked asleep and then realized that it was completely silent in the room.  No breathing and that was when I knew she was. . .  I tried waking her and then pressed her dispatch wristband that I found in the drawer beside her bed. 

Confound It!  She was supposed to be wearing that thing.  She got it the last time we went to the ER after her last attack. They were worried and told her then and said that  it would sound if her heart should fail or something like that.  But she could never abide jewelry, never wore a wrist watch and I couldn’t get her to keep on the bracelet.  She said it kept her from sleeping and sleep was what she said she needed anyhow.  You can’t convince Eddy of anything once she’s set her mind.

“Her appearance didn’t tell you that something was very wrong right away?”

“No, that’s the strange part.  Like I said, she’d been sick for a while, a long while.  And quite frankly it had been hard on her.  Last time I saw her she looked terrible.  So when I came in and found her one the bed I thought she was doing better.  She looked good.”

The policemen looked at one another.

“No I mean it,” Freddie continued.  I could have sworn her hair had gone completely white but you look at her now and it’s more gray with bits of black in it.  And her skin looked better, not so withered.”  Freddie felt himself becoming panicky.  This is where I’m loosing them; I can tell.

“Uh huh.  Did you notice anything else unusual or out of place?”

“Well I did notice that the apartment looked cleaned up.  Neither Eddy nor I were particular about housekeeping.  Hardly seemed worthwhile when just getting around was a strain.  But I don’t see any papers or stuff on the floor nor even any dirt. And all the counters look, well, polished.