Free Some Degree of Murder by Frank Zafiro, Colin Conway Page A

the house and pulling the door shut behind her. We both sat down on the concrete steps that led to her front porch. The taxi that I took to meet Natalia waited down the block, its engine running along with the fare meter.
    Natalia looked me up and down, no doubt taking in the black pants, tan polo shirt and black jacket. “Are you a cop? Because I’ve already talked to the cops.”
    “I’m not the police.”
    “Then who are you?”
    I shrugged. “I’m like a detective. Sort of.”
    Her face brightened. “Ah,” she said with a big smile. “You’re a private detective, like in the movies.”
    I smiled. “Something like that. You said the police came to see you?”
    “Yeah, but I didn’t like the one who came,” she said with a shake of her head. “He was mean to me.”
    “Mean?”
    “Yeah, I don’t think he liked me because I’m Russian. He asked about Fawn. He tried to pretend he was my friend, Fawn’s friend, but I didn’t believe it. He kept looking around my house as he talked.”
    I stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say to that.
    “Are you going to find who killed Fawn?” she asked, breaking the silence.
    ”Yes.”
    She stared at me waiting for my questions.
    “Natalia, did Fawn use drugs?”
    She lowered her head and stared at her white Reeboks.
    “I know she was using something. I just don’t know what it was.”
    She nodded without looking at me. “We use to smoke a little chronic together.”
    I rubbed my hands together. “I’m not talking weed. I’m talking something harder. Something that would make her run away.”
    “We went to a party with a bunch of guys we met at the mall. Fawn was really hot for this guy named Malcolm. At the party Malcolm asks us if we want to get high. We both said yeah. That’s when Malcolm took out a glass pipe.”
    “Crack?”
    “Yeah, I thought he was talking about smoking some dope when he said get high. So did Fawn. But when I saw it was something else, I didn’t want any part of it. I tried to make Fawn leave with me, but she wouldn’t. She really liked Malcolm and wanted to impress him. She told me she was going to stay and I left her. I ended up calling my brother to come pick me up and bring me home.”
    “Did Fawn say what happened?”
    “She said she got high with Malcolm and they had sex. She said he wasn’t very good at it, though.” Natalia smiled at the thought.
    I rubbed my hands over my face. “Did Fawn have sex before Malcolm?”
    Natalia glanced at me sideways. “We all have. Boys don’t want no girl who won’t hook up. If you don’t put out, you don’t go out. It’s as simple as that. That’s the rules.”
    A tricked-out Honda sped by, its stereo pumping out bass and its exhaust system revealing the car had an after-market muffler.
    “How old is Malcolm?”
    Natalia leaned back on her elbows, pushing her small breasts outward. “Nineteen.”
    “Nineteen? Why would Fawn hang out with someone that old?”
    Natalia shook her head at me. “Because he’s hot. Because he’s got a job. Because he’s got a car.”
    “Where’s he work?”
    She sat up and rubbed her arms. “At the Denny’s on Sprague. He washes dishes and stuff.”
    “You know where he lives?”
    She shook her head.
    “What’s he look like?”
    “He’s tall and skinny. Sometimes he wears his hair in cornrows. Sometimes it’s picked out in an afro.”
    “He’s black?”
    “Oh, yeah. Fawn likes black guys. Me, I can go either way, but she really dug it.”
    “Did you tell this to the cop who came and talked with you?”
    “No way. He never asked about a boyfriend and I probably wouldn’t have told him anyway. You’re not going to tell Fawn’s mom are you? That would kill her.”
    My mouth was dry. “Why didn’t she tell her mom about Malcolm?”
    Natalia looked at me like I was stupid. “Because he’s nineteen. Because he’s black. Because she was sleeping with him.”
    I stood up and walked off without saying a word.
    “Are