“Brad Daggett?” the detective said. “Can you spell that for me.” He wrote it down. “What can you tell me about him?”
“Not much, really. I work with him closely, but I don’t know anything about him personally. I really can’t imagine any reason that Brad would have for coming down to see Ted, or for actually killing him. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“He was your contractor? Is it possible that your husband and he were having some dispute over money?”
“Not without my knowing about it. I was the only one who worked closely with Brad, and I was making most of the money decisions. No. Not a chance.”
“So, had you had any disputes with him? Any issues at all?”
“Small stuff here and there, like maybe he bought the wrong ceiling molding, but nothing important. He was totally professional, and he was being paid incredibly well. There’s just absolutely no reason I can think of that he would have anything against Ted.”
“Is he married?”
“Who, Brad? I don’t think so. He was married because I’m pretty sure he has kids, but he’s never mentioned a wife.”
“And was he ever inappropriate with you? Did he ever give you the impression that he . . . uh, that he found you attractive.” He stammered a little as he said it, and seemed uncomfortable, and I wondered briefly if his nervous energy was for real, or if it was an act.
“No. He might have, but if he did he never let me know. As I said, he was totally professional.” I looked again at the sketch, impressed by how much it looked like Brad, and pissed that Brad had been stupid enough to get spotted, then added, “The more I look at it, it still looks like him, but only superficially. It’s a man with a goatee, that’s all.”
“Okay.” Kimball put his finger on the sketch and swung it back toward him. “We’ll check him out. Do you have his number?”
I pulled out my phone and gave the detective Brad’s number. “I really don’t think . . .” I said.
“No, no, I know. But we’ll need to follow up, just to eliminate him from the investigation. My guess is that your husband’s murder is exactly what it seems to be. Someone breaking into houses, looking for jewelry and other small items to steal. Maybe the killer had some sort of cover story that enabled him to talk his way into your house. Would you say that Ted was the trusting type? Would he have let a stranger past his door if that stranger had a good story?”
I thought for a moment, telling myself that the real answer was a resounding no. “I could see that,” I said. “He lived a charmed life and nothing bad had ever happened to him. You’d think that, with all the money he made . . . but he was pretty trusting.”
Detective Kimball leaned back in his swivel chair and nodded at me. I could feel that we were winding down. It made me nervous. I knew that as soon as he was alone, the detective was going to call Brad, and I did not trust that Brad would handle that call well at all, even though we’d been over what he was going to say a hundred times. I thought about trying to call him first to warn him and calm him down, then realized that there would be phone records, that the police would know I called him immediately after identifying him in a sketch.
“You know,” I said, realizing that it was important that I didn’t hide any information from the police. “I actually saw Brad Daggett yesterday morning. I needed to tell him to suspend work on the house. I was on my way up to Maine.”
“Oh.” The detective let the chair tilt forward.
“He was totally normal. A little shocked, I thought, about what happened to Ted.”
“Like I said, we just need to eliminate him. I’m sure he has an alibi. From what you’re saying, it doesn’t sound like he had anything to do with this. Oh, one other thing, Mrs. Severson, the scene-of-the-crime officers are done at your house, which means you’re free to go back there. I didn’t know if you’d . . .”
“I need to go back,” I said, “just to pick up some clothes, and then I’ll see how I feel about staying there.”
“Okay.” He stood, and so did I. “I need to stay here at the station,” he said, “but can I get an officer to give you a ride back to your car, or to your house?”
“No, thanks. I can take a taxi.”