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sp; “She wasn’t old. But not a girl, either. About your age,” he said to Steffi.
“Ethnic?”
“No.”
“Tall, short?”
Daniels winced and rubbed a spot on his lower abdomen. “Honey?” his wife said, anxiously picking up the basin and tucking it under his chin.
He pushed it aside. “Just a mild cramp.”
“Want some Sprite?”
“A sip.” Mrs. Daniels brought the covered cup to his lips and he sucked through the bent straw. When he was finished, he looked at Smilow again. “What’d you ask… oh, her height?” He shook his head. “Didn’t notice. Not too extreme one way or the other. I guess about average.”
“Hair color? Was she blond?” Steffi asked.
“Not too.”
“Not too?” Smilow repeated.
“Not too blond. It didn’t strike me that she was a Marilyn Monroe type, know what I mean? But her hair wasn’t dark, either. Sorta medium.”
“Mr. Daniels, could you give us a general body description?”
“You mean was she… like fat?”
“Was she?”
“No.”
“Thin?”
“Yeah. More thin. Well, sorta thin, I guess you could say. See, I really didn’t pay her much mind. I was just trying to keep from having a god-awful accident out there in the hall.”
“I think that’s all he can tell you,” Mrs. Daniels said to them. “If you think of something else to ask, you can come back tomorrow.”
“One final question, please,” Smilow said. “Did you actually see this woman go into Mr. Pettijohn’s room?”
“Nope. Quick as I could, I unlocked my door with that credit-card-looking thing and went inside.” He rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “For that matter, I don’t know if it was the room where the guy got killed or not. It could have been any room down the hallway from mine.”
“It was the penthouse suite. The door is slightly recessed,” Steffi said. “It’s different from the others. If we pointed out Mr. Pettijohn’s suite to you, would you be able to determine if that was the door you saw the woman standing in front of?”
“I seriously doubt it. As I told you before, I only glanced down the hall. It registered with me that there was a woman standing at a door waiting for it to be opened. That’s all.”
“You’re sure she wasn’t stepping out of it, leaving it?”
“No, I’m not sure.” Daniels was beginning to sound querulous. “But that wasn’t the impression I got. There was nothing unusual about her or the situation. Honestly, if you folks hadn’t asked, I never would have thought of her again. You asked did I see anybody in the hallway yesterday afternoon, and that’s who I saw.”
Mrs. Daniels intervened again. Steffi and Smilow apologized for having to bother him, thanked him for the information, wished him a speedy recovery, and left.
Out in the hospital corridor, Smilow was glum. “Great. We have an eyewitness who saw a woman standing not too far away from him, but pretty far, who may or may not have been standing outside Pettijohn’s suite. She was neither old nor young. She was average height. ‘Sorta medium’ hair and ‘sorta thin.’ ”
“I’m disappointed but not surprised,” Steffi said. “I doubted he would remember anything given his preoccupation at the time.”
“Shit,” Smilow swore.
“Precisely.”
