The Perfect Impression

one’s told meanything for an hour,” he said, his words coming fast, sloppy, and repetitive. “AllI know is that Gabby was stabbed to death. I wasn’t even allowed in the room tosee her in the room. I think I deserve some answers.”
“Do you think you deserve the right to attack law enforcement officers?”Jessie barked.
He lowered his head and got quiet. After several more seconds of heavybreathing, he looked up again. His eyes were glassy but wet. It was hard toknow how much of that was drunkenness and how much was remorse.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry,” he said, forcing himself to speak moreslowly. “I didn’t mean any harm. I’m just upset and still kind of drunk. Iforgot I was even holding that mug.”
“He was drinking a lot earlier,” Melissa Ferro offered from thecorner of the room, where she’d been cowering since Steve Crewe barged in.
“Thanks for your time, Melissa,” Jessie said, using her first name to keepthe woman feeling like she had an advocate. “You can go back out now. But asbefore, no discussing anything we talked about with others, understand? Therecould be serious consequences.”
Detective Peters looked at her quizzically. She pretended not tonotice. There wasn’t really anything Jessie could do to keep Ferro’s mouthshut, but giving her the implication that there was might prevent her fromtalking for a little while at least.
Peters led her out, and Jessie heard him give a whispered tonguelashing to Tommy the bellboy for failing to warn them about Steve Crewe’sintrusion. Jessie felt bad for him. Unlike the security guard, he had notraining for this kind of situation. He was probably just a local kid trying toearn some cash. Still, a shout wouldn’t have hurt.
When Peters came back in and closed the door, they returned theirattention to the handcuffed man slumped in the chair. Crewe was finallybreathing normally again. Peters looked at Jessie to see how she wanted toconduct the interrogation.
“Well, Mr. Crewe, it looks like you got what you wanted,” she said. “Iguess we’re talking to you next. Although the way you got here may lead to acriminal charge.”
“Please,” he said pitiably. “I really didn’t mean it.”
Jessie was happy to have him on the defensive. It made it harder forhim to use grief as a mask to hide any other feelings.
“I suppose that any potential charges will depend on how cooperativeyou are from here on out,” she told him. “My first question is: can we take offthese cuffs without worrying that you’re going to lose it again? Because nexttime I won’t be using a backpack to defend myself.”
He nodded without speaking. Now that she had softened him up, Jessiedecided to ease back a little, at least at first. She started in on thequestioning before Peters took the interrogation in a direction she didn’twant.
“First, despite what just happened, I wanted to offer you mycondolences. I know this is all very painful.”
“It really is,” he said. “And I’m still pretty messed up from drinkingso late. Part of me feels like this might just be some terrible nightmare.”
“I wish it was, Mr. Crewe,” she told him. “But it’s very real. Andunfortunately, we have to have a very real, unpleasant conversation. I’m goingto ask you to set aside your heartache temporarily and answer some direct,uncomfortable questions, okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding aggressively as if that would clear his foggybrain.
“The one good thing is that your wife was discovered very soon afterher death so all the evidence is fresh and the potential suspects are stillaround. We can use that to find her killer.”
That seemed to buoy him slightly. He sat up straighter in the chair.
“Let’s do it,” he said. “Ask me anything.”
“Good. Where were you when you heard about Gabrielle?”
“In the main hotel bar,” he said. “I was hanging out with Rich Ferro.There was this commotion. Some security guard ran upstairs, shouting aboutcalling the police. A couple of minutes later, some people came down and saidthat a woman was found dead on the fifth floor. Rich and I immediately wentupstairs. When we got there, Melissa was sitting on the floor in the hallway,crying. A waiter was standing outside our room like some sort of guard. That’swhen I knew it had to be Gabby.”
“What did you do next?” Jessie asked softly.
“I tried to go in the room but he wouldn’t let me. He said the cops hadto go in first. I started to push past him but Rich held me back, said that itwould only make things worse. Melissa told me not to go in, that I wouldn’twant to see her that way. So I stopped fighting and sat down in the hall too.The three of us waited there until Detective Peters and the other cop arrived afew minutes later.”
“When was the last time you saw Gabby?” Jessie asked.
Crewe screwed up his face in concentration before seeming to find therequisite memory.
“We went to the main drag in town to have dinner with a big group. Thatwas around seven thirty, I think. I know we got back to the hotel sometimebetween nine and nine thirty. Everyone hung out in the bar for a while afterthat, maybe an hour? Then folks started to split up. People came in and outconstantly. I went to the bathroom for a while, worried that I might throw up.Rich did the same. We were really pounding them down. Gabby said she wanted togo upstairs for a bit. I don’t remember exactly when that was. I don’t eventhink I said I loved her when she left.”
Jessie could hear the catch in his voice and moved on quickly. She didn’twant him to get so emotional that he wasn’t useful.
“Do you know if anyone had an issue with Gabby? Did she perhaps get inan argument with someone earlier that evening or even during the day?”
“No,” Crewe said, shaking his head aggressively. “Everybody likes her.She’s not the kind of person people get angry at. Once at the grocery store, Iremember her chastising some guy in line for cursing when there were kidsaround. And the way she did it, he actually apologized. She