Free Misery Bay by Steve Hamilton

before he died.
    “So if you’ll just go through the entire thing one more time…” She pulled out a small black recording device of some kind, no bigger than a matchbook. She spoke into it, said her name and the time. Then as she looked around the room she said she was at the police station in Sault Ste. Marie with Mr. Alex McKnight of Paradise, Michigan. She gave me a quick smile and a nod of her head and then it was my turn to speak. I went over the last forty-eight hours, beginning with Chief Maven’s visit to the Glasgow Inn. His request for my help. Meeting Charles Razniewski Sr. and learning more about his son’s suicide. Driving out to Houghton, the detour to Misery Bay, my conversation with the undersheriff, then Charlie’s friends. Coming back the next day. Finding Raz dead on Chief Maven’s floor.
    She listened without interrupting. She didn’t ask any questions until I was done.
    “So just focus for a minute on what actually happened here in Sault Ste. Marie, before and after your trip.”
    “How do you mean? I only met him briefly before I went out there, and then when I got back, obviously it was only—”
    “I understand, but was there anything else that might have happened here that might look out of place now? Something you might not have even noticed at the time?”
    I tried to follow her thought, but I wasn’t coming up with anything at all.
    “Any suspicious strangers hanging around town?” she said. “Or did Mr. Razniewski mention anything, perhaps? Was he uneasy? Did he feel like he was being watched? Anything like that?”
    “No. I mean, he was preoccupied with his son when I talked to him. It was just that one conversation.”
    “One more time, if you can. Please go back over that whole time frame. I know that your trip is the thing that stands out in your mind, but just focus on what might have been going on here in this immediate area. Anything that might have seemed unusual or out of place here. No matter how small. Please think about it carefully.”
    I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t think of anything else.”
    “Okay,” she said, turning her little machine off. “I appreciate you taking so much time here, Mr. McKnight. You realize, I hope, that we had to follow a certain protocol. We had to keep you separated before the interview, even with you being an ex-cop and Chief Maven, of course, still being on the job up here. I hope we didn’t inconvenience you too much.”
    “It’s okay. Really.”
    “I think we’ve probably kept you and your friend apart for long enough, wouldn’t you say? Shall we bring him in here?”
    “My friend? Are you referring to—”
    “Chief Maven, yes. My partner was talking to him in his office. If they’re done, I think we can wrap this up together.”
    She excused herself and went down the hall. About a minute later, she came back, followed by Chief Maven and a man in a dark blue suit much like hers. It might have even been the exact same fabric, cut from the same bolt. He was young and slick-looking, with a narrow face and sharp eyes. As he entered the room he seemed to be distracted by his cell phone.
    “Any day now,” he said to the phone. “Is there any service up here?”
    “This is my partner,” Agent Long said to me. “Agent Fleury.”
    He put down his phone just long enough to shake my hand.
    “Mr. McKnight,” he said. “Sorry this wasn’t a more pleasant occasion.”
    Chief Maven sat down next to me. He hadn’t said a word yet and it didn’t look like he was planning on speaking anytime soon. He looked even worse than before—at least twenty years older now, his face drained of color. He kept staring down at the table with half-closed eyes.
    “We’ve been letting you guys do all the talking,” Agent Fleury said, “so I figure maybe it’s our turn.”
    He looked over at his partner until she nodded back to him. Then he continued.
    “As you know, Mr. Razniewski was a U.S. marshal. I assume you know what